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Best Famous Mummers Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Mummers poems. This is a select list of the best famous Mummers poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Mummers poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of mummers poems.

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Written by William Ernest Henley | Create an image from this poem

Villons Straight Tip to All Cross Coves

 "Tout aux tavernes et aux filles."
Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-jack?
Or fake the broads? or fig a nag?
Or thimble-rig? or knap a yack?
Or pitch a snide? or smash a rag?
Suppose you duff? or nose and lag?
Or get the straight, and land your pot?
How do you melt the multy swag?
Booze and the blowens cop the lot.
Fiddle, or fence, or mace, or mack;
Or moskeneer, or flash the drag;
Dead-lurk a crib, or do a crack;
Pad with a slang, or chuck a ***;
Bonnet, or tout, or mump and gag;
Rattle the tats, or mark the spot;
You can not bank a single stag;
Booze and the blowens cop the lot.
Suppose you try a different tack,
And on the square you flash your flag?
At penny-a-lining make your whack,
Or with the mummers mug and gag?
For nix, for nix the dibbs you bag!
At any graft, no matter what,
Your merry goblins soon stravag:
Booze and the blowens cop the lot.
THE MORAL

It's up the spout and Charley Wag
With wipes and tickers and what not.
Until the squeezer nips your scrag,
Booze and the blowens cop the lot.


Written by Henrik Ibsen | Create an image from this poem

Wildflowers And Hothouse-plants

 "GOOD Heavens, man, what a freak of taste! 
What blindness to form and feature! 
The girl's no beauty, and might be placed 
As a hoydenish kind of creature." 

No doubt it were more in the current tone 
And the tide today we move in, 
If I could but choose me to make my own 
A type of our average woman. 

Like winter blossoms they all unfold 
Their primly maturing glory; 
Like pot-grown plants in the tepid mould 
Of a window conservatory. 

They sleep by rule and by rule they wake, 
Each tendril is taught its duties; 
Were I worldly-wise, yes, my choice I'd make 
From our stock of average beauties. 

For worldly wisdom what do I care? 
I am sick of its prating mummers; 
She breathes of the field and the open air, 
And the fragrance of sixteen summers.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things