Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner,
Eating of Christmas pye;
He put in his thumb,
And pull'd out a plumb,
And what a good boy was I.

Little Be-Pope,
He lost his hope,
'Coz' Jackson he couldn't find him.
He found him at last,
And ran very fast,
With his tail hanging down behind him.

Listening to the moon,
gazing at the croaking of frogs
in a field of ripe rice.


Translated by Robert Hass

Listen to Mustn'ts, child, listen to the Don'ts.
Listen to the Shouldn'ts, the Impossibles, the Won'ts.
Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child, Anything can be.

Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these
You bid me please?
The Three in One, the One in Three? Not so!
To my own Gods I go.
It may be they shall give me greater ease
Than your cold Christ and tangled Trinities.

The joy of God gets into us, and we
Hum with the intuition of His power;
Even as a linnet, like a thing inspired,
Throats his love-lyrics in the dewy leaves.

The little and the great are joined in one
By God's great force. The wondrous golden sun
Is linked unto the glow-worm's tiny spark;
The eagle soars to heaven in his flight;
And in those realms of space, all bathed in light,
Soar none except the eagle and the lark.

In vain to live from age to age
While modern bards endeavour,
I write my name in Patty's page,
And gain my point for ever.

On Britain Europe's safety lies,
Britain is lost if Harley dies:
Harley depends upon your skill:
Think what you save, or what you kill.

Two things remain unalter'd in this place,
Tho' since I came here forty years are told—
The smiling loveliness of Nature's face,
And the fine spirit of kindly, courteous grace,
That still presides here as it did of yore.