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Best Famous Bow Wow Poems

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Written by William Shakespeare | Create an image from this poem

Fairy Land iii

 COME unto these yellow sands, 
 And then take hands: 
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,-- 
 The wild waves whist,-- 
Foot it featly here and there; 
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark! Bow, wow, The watch-dogs bark: Bow, wow.
Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!


Written by Robert Browning | Create an image from this poem

Holy-Cross Day

 ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO
ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON
IN ROME.
[``Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, and now must my lord preach his first sermon to the Jews: as it was of old cared for in tine merciful bowels of the Church, that, so to speak, a crumb at least from her conspicuous table here in Rome should be, though but once yearly, cast to the famishing dogs, under-trampled and bespitten-upon beneath the feet of the guests.
And a moving sight in truth, this, of so many of the besotted blind restif and ready-to-perish Hebrews! now maternally brought---nay (for He saith, `Compel them to come in') haled, as it were, by the head and hair, and against their obstinate hearts, to partake of the heavenly grace.
What awakening, what striving with tears, what working of a yeasty conscience! Nor was my lord wanting to himself on so apt an occasion; witness the abundance of conversions which did incontinently reward him: though not to my lord be altogether the glory.
''---_Diary by the Bishop's Secretary,_ 1600.
] What the Jews really said, on thus being driven to church, was rather to this effect:--- I.
Fee, faw, fum! bubble and squeak! Blessedest Thursday's the fat of the week.
Rumble and tumble, sleek and rough, Stinking and savoury, simug and gruff, Take the church-road, for the bell's due chime Gives us the summons---'tis sermon-time! II.
Bob, here's Barnabas! Job, that's you? Up stumps Solomon---bustling too? Shame, man! greedy beyond your years To handsel the bishop's shaving-shears? Fair play's a jewel! Leave friends in the lurch? Stand on a line ere you start for the church! III.
Higgledy piggledy, packed we lie, Rats in a hamper, swine in a stye, Wasps in a bottle, frogs in a sieve, Worms in a carcase, fleas in a sleeve.
Hist! square shoulders, settle your thumbs And buzz for the bishop---here he comes.
IV.
Bow, wow, wow---a bone for the dog! I liken his Grace to an acorned hog.
What, a boy at his side, with the bloom of a lass, To help and handle my lord's hour-glass! Didst ever behold so lithe a chine? His cheek hath laps like a fresh-singed swine.
V.
Aaron's asleep---shove hip to haunch, Or somebody deal him a dig in the paunch! Look at the purse with the tassel and knob, And the gown with the angel and thingumbob! What's he at, quotha? reading his text! Now you've his curtsey---and what comes next? VI.
See to our converts---you doomed black dozen--- No stealing away---nor cog nor cozen! You five, that were thieves, deserve it fairly; You seven, that were beggars, will live less sparely; You took your turn and dipped in the hat, Got fortune---and fortune gets you; mind that! VII.
Give your first groan---compunction's at work; And soft! from a Jew you mount to a Turk.
Lo, Micah,---the selfsame beard on chin He was four times already converted in! Here's a knife, clip quick---it's a sign of grace--- Or he ruins us all with his hanging-face.
VIII.
Whom now is the bishop a-leering at? I know a point where his text falls pat.
I'll tell him to-morrow, a word just now Went to my heart and made me vow I meddle no more with the worst of trades--- Let somebody else pay his serenades.
IX.
Groan all together now, whee-hee-hee! It's a-work, it's a-work, ah, woe is me! It began, when a herd of us, picked and placed, Were spurred through the Corso, stripped to the waist; Jew brutes, with sweat and blood well spent To usher in worthily Christian Lent.
X.
It grew, when the hangman entered our bounds, Yelled, pricked us out to his church like hounds: It got to a pitch, when the hand indeed Which gutted my purse would throttle my creed: And it overflows when, to even the odd, Men I helped to their sins help me to their God.
XI.
But now, while the scapegoats leave our flock, And the rest sit silent and count the clock, Since forced to muse the appointed time On these precious facts and truths sublime,--- Let us fitly ennploy it, under our breath, In saying Ben Ezra's Song of Death.
XII.
For Rabbi Ben Ezra, the night he died, Called sons and sons' sons to his side, And spoke, ``This world has been harsh and strange; ``Something is wrong: there needeth a change.
``But what, or where? at the last or first? ``In one point only we sinned, at worst.
XIII.
``The Lord will have mercy on Jacob yet, ``And again in his border see Israel set.
``When Judah beholds Jerusalem, ``The stranger-seed shall be joined to them: ``To Jacob's House shall the Gentiles cleave.
``So the Prophet saith and his sons believe.
XIV.
``Ay, the children of the chosen race ``Shall carry and bring them to their place: ``In the land of the Lord shall lead the same, ``Bondsmen and handmaids.
Who shall blame, ``When the slaves enslave, the oppressed ones o'er ``The oppressor triumph for evermore? XV.
``God spoke, and gave us the word to keep, ``Bade never fold the hands nor sleep ``'Mid a faithless world,---at watch and ward, ``Till Christ at the end relieve our guard.
``By His servant Moses the watch was set: ``Though near upon cock-crow, we keep it yet.
XVI.
``Thou! if thou wast He, who at mid-watch came, ``By the starlight, naming a dubious name! ``And if, too heavy with sleep---too rash ``With fear---O Thou, if that martyr-gash ``Fell on Thee coming to take thine own, ``And we gave the Cross, when we owed the Throne--- XVII.
``Thou art the Judge.
We are bruised thus.
``But, the Judgment over, join sides with us! ``Thine too is the cause! and not more thine ``Than ours, is the work of these dogs and swine, ``Whose life laughs through and spits at their creed! ``Who maintain Thee in word, and defy Thee in deed! XVIII.
``We withstood Christ then? Be mindful how ``At least we withstand Barabbas now! ``Was our outrage sore? But the worst we spared, ``To have called these---Christians, had we dared! ``Let defiance to them pay mistrust of Thee, ``And Rome make amends for Calvary! XIX.
``By the torture, prolonged from age to age, ``By the infamy, Israel's heritage, ``By the Ghetto's plague, by the garb's disgrace, ``By the badge of shame, by the felon's place, ``By the branding-tool, the bloody whip, ``And the summons to Christian fellowship,--- XX.
``We boast our proof that at least the Jew ``Would wrest Christ's name from the Devil's crew.
``Thy face took never so deep a shade ``But we fought them in it, God our aid! ``A trophy to bear, as we marchs, thy band, ``South, East, and on to the Pleasant Land!'' [_Pope Gregory XVI.
abolished this bad business of the Sermon.
_---R.
B.
]
Written by Eugene Field | Create an image from this poem

The duel

 The gingham dog and the calico cat
Side by side on the table sat;
'T was half-past twelve, and (what do you think!)
Nor one nor t' other had slept a wink!
The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate
Appeared to know as sure as fate
There was going to be a terrible spat.
(I wasn't there; I simply state What was told to me by the Chinese plate!) The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow!" And the calico cat replied "mee-ow!" The air was littered, an hour or so, With bits of gingham and calico, While the old Dutch clock in the chimney place Up with its hands before its face, For it always dreaded a family row! (Now mind: I'm only telling you What the old Dutch clock declares is true!) The Chinese plate looked very blue, And wailed, "Oh, dear! what shall we do!" But the gingham dog and the calico cat Wallowed this way and tumbled that, Employing every tooth and claw In the awfullest way you ever saw - And, oh! how the gingham and calico flew! (Don't fancy I exaggerate - I got my news from the Chinese plate!) Next morning, where the two had sat They found no trace of dog or cat; And some folks think unto this day That burglars stole that pair away! But the truth about the cat and pup Is this: they ate each other up! Now what do you really think of that! (The old Dutch clock it told me so, And that is how I came to know.
)
Written by Mother Goose | Create an image from this poem

Old Mother Hubbard


Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
  To give her poor dog a bone;
But when she got there
The cupboard was bare,
  And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's
  To buy him some bread;
When she came back
  The dog was dead.

She went to the undertaker's
  To buy him a coffin;
When she got back
  The dog was laughing.

She took a clean dish
  To get him some tripe;
When she came back
  He was smoking a pipe.

She went to the alehouse
  To get him some beer;
When she came back
  The dog sat in a chair.

She went to the tavern
  For white wine and red;
When she came back
  The dog stood on his head.

She went to the hatter's
  To buy him a hat;
When she came back
  He was feeding the cat.

She went to the barber's
  To buy him a wig;
When she came back
  He was dancing a jig.

She went to the fruiterer's
  To buy him some fruit;
When she came back
  He was playing the flute.

She went to the tailor's
  To buy him a coat;
When she came back
  He was riding a goat.

She went to the cobbler's
  To buy him some shoes;
When she came back
  He was reading the news.

She went to the sempster's
  To buy him some linen;
When she came back
  The dog was a-spinning.

She went to the hosier's
  To buy him some hose;
When she came back
  He was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsy,
  The dog made a bow;
The dame said, "Your servant,"
  The dog said, "Bow-wow.
"

Written by Mother Goose | Create an image from this poem

Caesar's Song

 

  Bow-wow-wow!
Whose dog art thou?
Little Tom Tinker's dog,
  Bow-wow-wow!


Written by Anne Kingsmill Finch | Create an image from this poem

Three Songs

 Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,--
The wild waves whist--
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark! Bow, wow, The watch-dogs bark: Bow, wow.
Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow! --from The Tempest Tell me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourishèd? Reply, reply.
It is engender'd in the eyes; With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all ring Fancy's knell: I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell! All.
Ding, dong, bell! --from The Merchant of Venice Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily: Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
-from The Tempest

Book: Reflection on the Important Things