He bent over
The shadow in grey
Kissed the lips
Of life away

Eyes, closed buds,
Ne'er more to open,
Veins of blood
Weary and broken.

Spirit released
From skeletal prison,
Body deceased,
Soul arisen.

Flowers of light,
Music immortal,
Embrace a child
Unto God's portal.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the Sea;
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder—everlastingly.
Dear child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham’s ***** all the year;
And worshipp’st at the Temple’s inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

King and Queen of the Pelicans we;
No other Birds so grand we see!
None but we have feet like fins!
With lovely leathery throats and chins!
    Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
    We think no Birds so happy as we!
    Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
    We think so then, and we thought so still!

We live on the Nile. The Nile we love.
By night we sleep on the cliffs above;
By day we fish, and at eve we stand
On long bare islands of yellow sand.
And when the sun sinks slowly down
And the great rock walls grow dark and brown,
Where the purple river rolls fast and dim
And the Ivory Ibis starlike skim,
Wing to wing we dance around,--
Stamping our feet with a flumpy sound,--
Opening our mouths as Pelicans ought,
And this is the song we nighly snort;--
    Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
    We think no Birds so happy as we!
    Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
    We think so then, and we thought so still!

Last year came out our daughter, Dell;
And all the Birds received her well.
To do her honour, a feast we made
For every bird that can swim or wade.
Herons and Gulls, and Cormorants black,
Cranes, and flamingoes with scarlet back,
Plovers and Storks, and Geese in clouds,
Swans and Dilberry Ducks in crowds.
Thousands of Birds in wondrous flight!
They ate and drank and danced all night,
And echoing back from the rocks you heard
Multitude-echoes from Bird to bird,--
    Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
    We think no Birds so happy as we!
    Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
    We think so then, and we thought so still!

Yes, they came; and among the rest,
The King of the Cranes all grandly dressed.
Such a lovely tail! Its feathers float
between the ends of his blue dress-coat;
With pea-green trowsers all so neat,
And a delicate frill to hide his feet,--
(For though no one speaks of it, every one knows,
He has got no webs between his toes!)

As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell,
In violent love that Crane King fell,--
On seeing her waddling form so fair,
With a wreath of shrimps in her short white hair.
And before the end of the next long day,
Our Dell had given her heart away;
For the King of the Cranes had won that heart,
With a Crocodile's egg and a large fish-****.
She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes,
Leaving the Nile for stranges plains;
And away they flew in a gathering crowd
Of endless birds in a lengthening cloud.
    Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
    We think no Birds so happy as we!
    Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
    We think so then, and we thought so still!

And far away in the twilight sky,
We heard them singing a lessening cry,--
Farther and farther till out of sight,
And we stood alone in thesilent night!
Often since, in the nights of June,
We sit on the sand and watch the moon;--
She has gone to the great Gromboolian plain,
And we probably never shall meet again!
Oft, in the long still nights of June,
We sit on the rocks and watch the moon;--
----She dwells by the streams of the Chankly Bore,
And we probably never shall see her more.
    Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
    We think no Birds so happy as we!
    Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
    We think so then, and we thought so still!

There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once by mistake,
In a stove she did bake,
That unfortunate Man of Peru.

What shall we do with the child so wild?
How do we tame his flame 'n fire?
What shall we do with the child so quiet?
How do we allay his disquiet?

What do we do with our child so proud,
Strutting around with a spirit unbowed?
How do we deal with our child so vile,
Our delinquent juvenile?

What shall we do with our child, the clown,
Makes his class roar but his teacher frown?
What shall we do with our child, the boaster,
Who proclaims his prowess like a theatrical poster?

Plant a kiss on the wildness,
Whilst encouraging the calm,
Praise 'n embrace the shyness,
Pointing out his bonhomme.

Esteem 'n treasure the lordliness,
Give it a place of safety,
Love 'n welcome the vileness,
Whilst training his sensitivity.

Hug and adore the childness,
Like a jewel, the swagger,
Direct them with wiseness,
With acceptance, not a dagger.

Kiss the frog and watch it change,
An angel prince devoid of rage,
The sleeping princess shall awaken,
Before you, your golden maiden.

Silent, grey,
Memories call,
Bodies decay,
Spirits enthral.

Forest of stones,
Soldiers *****,
Markers of bones
Command respect.

Here, a soul,
In shadow, hides,
Tries to console
Young widow-bride.

There, a spirit,
of little merit,
dallies in grit,
whit to inherit.

Sobbing, a child
Kneels by her father,
Lips that once smiled
Buried before her.

Love-blind groom
Aches for his partner
Asleep in her tomb,
Asleep to his ardour.

Sighing tears,
Wind and rain,
Love and fear
Entwine the twain.

And gravel and grass
Watch from afar
as death and life dance
with bid, 'au revoir'.