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Famous Short Wife Poems. Short Wife Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Wife Poems. Short Wife Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Wife short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

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by Yosa Buson

Hes on the porch

 He's on the porch,
to escape the wife and kids--
how hot it is!


by Dorothy Parker

Thomas Carlyle

 Carlyle combined the lit'ry life
With throwing teacups at his wife,
Remarking, rather testily,
"Oh, stop your dodging, Mrs. C.!"


by Dorothy Parker

Harriet Beecher Stowe

 The pure and worthy Mrs. Stowe
Is one we all are proud to know
As mother, wife, and authoress-
Thank God, I am content with less!


by Ben Jonson

To Hornet



LXXVIII. — TO HORNET.

HORNET, thou hast thy wife drest for the stall,
To draw thee custom: but herself gets all.



by Mother Goose

The Pumpkin-Eater


Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.


by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man of Peru

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.


by Robert Louis Stevenson

So Live So Love So Use That Fragile Hour

 SO live, so love, so use that fragile hour,
That when the dark hand of the shining power
Shall one from other, wife or husband, take,
The poor survivor may not weep and wake.


by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man on some rocks

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his Wife up in a box:
When she said, "Let me out," he exclaimed, "Without doubt
You will pass all your life in that box."


by Edward Lear

There was an Old Person of Tartary

There was an Old Person of Tartary,
Who divided his jugular artery;
But he screeched to his Wife, and she said, "Oh, my life!
Your death will be felt by all Tartary!"


by Robert Herrick

Up Scoble

 Scobble for whoredom whips his wife and cries
He'll slit her nose; but blubbering she replies,
"Good sir, make no more cuts i' th' outward skin,
One slit's enough to let adultery in.


by William Butler Yeats

To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee

 I, the poet William Yeats,
With old mill boards and sea-green slates,
And smithy work from the Gort forge,
Restored this tower for my wife George;
And may these characters remain
When all is ruin once again.


by Mother Goose

Three Blind Mice


Three blind mice! See how they run!
They all ran after the farmer's wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
Did you ever see such a thing in your life
As three blind mice?


by Dorothy Parker

Social Note

 Lady, lady, should you meet
One whose ways are all discreet,
One who murmurs that his wife
Is the lodestar of his life,
One who keeps assuring you
That he never was untrue,
Never loved another one . . .
Lady, lady, better run!


by Mother Goose

Going To St. Ives


As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives.
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits.
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?


by Russell Edson

The Toy-Maker

 A toy-maker made a toy wife and a toy child. 
He made a toy house and some toy years.

 He made a getting-old toy, and he made a dying 
toy.

 The toy-maker made a toy heaven and a toy god.

 But, best of all, he liked making toy shit.


by Mother Goose

Jack Sprat


    Jack Sprat
    Could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean;
    And so,
    Betwixt them both,
They licked the platter clean.


by Vachel Lindsay

The Lion

 The Lion is a kingly beast.
He likes a Hindu for a feast.
And if no Hindu he can get,
The lion-family is upset.

He cuffs his wife and bites her ears
Till she is nearly moved to tears.
Then some explorer finds the den
And all is family peace again.


by Mother Goose

Jack Jingle


Little Jack Jingle, He used to live single;
But when he got tired of this kind of life,
He left off being single and lived with his wife.
Now what do you think of little Jack Jingle?
Before he was married he used to live single.


by Walt Whitman

To You.

 LET us twain walk aside from the rest; 
Now we are together privately, do you discard ceremony, 
Come! vouchsafe to me what has yet been vouchsafed to none—Tell me the whole story, 
Tell me what you would not tell your brother, wife, husband, or physician.


by Robert Burns

49. Epigram on the said Occasion

 O DEATH, had’st thou but spar’d his life,
 Whom we this day lament,
We freely wad exchanged the wife,
 And a’ been weel content.
Ev’n as he is, cauld in his graff,
 The swap we yet will do’t;
Tak thou the carlin’s carcase aff,
 Thou’se get the saul o’boot.


by Matthew Prior

A Reasonable Affliction

 On his death-bed poor Lubin lies: 
His spouse is in despair: 
With frequent sobs, and mutual cries, 
They both express their care. 

A different cause, says Parson Sly, 
The same effect may give: 
Poor Lubin fears that he may die; 
His wife, that he may live.


by Robert Burns

160. Epigram at RoslinInn

 MY blessings on ye, honest wife!
 I ne’er was here before;
Ye’ve wealth o’ gear for spoon and knife—
 Heart could not wish for more.
Heav’n keep you clear o’ sturt and strife,
 Till far ayont fourscore,
And while I toddle on thro’ life,
 I’ll ne’er gae by your door!


by Mother Goose

Little Tom Tucker


Little Tom Tucker
    Sings for his supper.
What shall he eat?
    White bread and butter.
How will he cut it
    Without e'er a knife?
How will he be married
    Without e'er a wife?


by Walt Whitman

Fast Anchor’d Eternal O Love.

 FAST-ANCHOR’D, eternal, O love! O woman I love! 
O bride! O wife! more resistless than I can tell, the thought of you! 
—Then separate, as disembodied, or another born, 
Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation; 
I ascend—I float in the regions of your love, O man,
O sharer of my roving life.


by Oscar Wilde

To My Wife - With A Copy Of My Poems

 I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals
One to you seem fair,
Love will waft it till it settles
On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.


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