Best Famous Oho Poems

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

Search and read the best famous Oho poems, articles about Oho poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Oho poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

• All Famous Oho Poems

Written by Eugene Field | The bow-leg boy Who should come up the road one day But the doctor-man in his two-wheel shay! And he whoaed his horse and he cried "Ahoy! I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy! Such a cute little boy! Such a funny little boy! Such a dear little bow-leg boy!" He took out his box and he opened it wide, And there was the bow-leg boy inside! And when they saw that cunning little mite, They cried in a chorus expressive of delight: "What a cute little boy! What a funny little boy! What a dear little bow-leg boy!" Observing a strict geometrical law, They cut out his panties with a circular saw; Which gave such a stress to his oval stride That the people he met invariably cried: "What a cute little boy! What a funny little boy! What a dear little bow-leg boy!" They gave him a wheel and away he went Speeding along to his heart's content; And he sits so straight and he pedals so strong That the folks all say as he bowls along: "What a cute little boy! What a funny little boy! What a dear little bow-leg boy!" With his eyes aflame and his cheeks aglow, He laughs "aha" and he laughs "oho"; And the world is filled and thrilled with the joy Of that jolly little human, the bow-leg boy-- The cute little boy! The funny little boy! The dear little bow-leg boy! If ever the doctor-man comes my way With his wonderful box in his two-wheel shay, I 'll ask for the treasure I'd fain possess-- Now, honest Injun! can't you guess? Why, a cute little boy-- A funny little boy-- A dear little bow-leg boy!

Written by Eugene Field | Lyman frederick and jim (FOR THE FELLOWSHIP CLU Lyman and Frederick and Jim, one day, Set out in a great big ship-- Steamed to the ocean adown the bay Out of a New York slip. "Where are you going and what is your game?" The people asked those three. "Darned if we know; but all the same Happy as larks are we; And happier still we're going to be!" Said Lyman And Frederick And Jim. The people laughed "Aha, oho! Oho, aha!" laughed they; And while those three went sailing so Some pirates steered that way. The pirates they were laughing, too-- The prospect made them glad; But by the time the job was through Each of them pirates, bold and bad, Had been done out of all he had By Lyman And Frederick And Jim. Days and weeks and months they sped, Painting that foreign clime A beautiful, bright vermilion red-- And having a ---- of a time! 'T was all so gaudy a lark, it seemed As if it could not be, And some folks thought it a dream they dreamed Of sailing that foreign sea, But I 'll identify you these three-- Lyman And Frederick And Jim. Lyman and Frederick are bankers and sich And Jim is an editor kind; The first two named are awfully rich And Jim ain't far behind! So keep your eyes open and mind your tricks, Or you are like to be In quite as much of a Tartar fix As the pirates that sailed the sea And monkeyed with the pardners three, Lyman And Frederick And Jim!

Written by Eugene Field | Little miss brag Little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over the way And the rich little lady puts out a lip As she looks at her own white, dainty slip, And wishes that she could wear a gown As pretty as gingham of faded brown! For little Miss Brag she lays much stress On the privileges of a gingham dress - "Aha, Oho!" The rich little lady from over the way Has beautiful dolls in vast array; Yet she envies the raggedy home-made doll She hears our little Miss Brag extol. For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt! Her nose is inked, and her mouth is, too, And one eye's black and the other's blue - "Aha, Oho!" The rich little lady goes out to ride With footmen standing up outside, Yet wishes that, sometimes, after dark Her father would trundle her in the park; - That, sometimes, her mother would sing the things Little Miss Brag says her mother sings When through the attic window streams The moonlight full of golden dreams - "Aha, Oho!" Yes, little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over the way; And yet who knows but from her heart Often the bitter sighs upstart - Uprise to lose their burn and sting In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing Praise of the treasures all its own! So I've come to love that treble tone - "Aha, Oho!"

Written by Eugene Field | Madge: Ye Hoyden At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee-- "Now marke this rede," they bade her oft, "Forsooken sholde your folly bee!" But Madge, ye hoyden, laught & cried, "Oho, oho," in girlish glee, And noe thing mo replied. II No griffe she had nor knew no care, But gayly rompit all daies long, And, like ye brooke that everywhere Goes jinking with a gladsome song, Shee danct and songe from morn till night,-- Her gentil harte did know no wrong, Nor did she none despight. III Sir Tomas from his noblesse halle Did trend his path a somer's daye, And to ye hoyden he did call And these ffull evill words did say: "O wolde you weare a silken gown And binde your haire with ribands gay? Then come with me to town!" IV But Madge, ye hoyden, shoke her head,-- "I'le be no lemman unto thee For all your golde and gownes," shee said, "ffor Robin hath bespoken mee." Then ben Sir Tomas sore despight, And back unto his hall went hee With face as ashen white. V "O Robin, wilt thou wed this girl, Whenas she is so vaine a sprite?" So spak ffull many an envious churle Unto that curteyse countrie wight. But Robin did not pay no heede; And they ben wed a somer night & danct upon ye meade. VI Then scarse ben past a yeare & daye Whan Robin toke unto his bed, And long, long time therein he lay, Nor colde not work to earn his bread; in soche an houre, whan times ben sore, Sr. Tomas came with haughtie tread & knockit at ye doore. VII Saies: "Madge, ye hoyden, do you know how that you once despighted me? But He forgiff an you will go my swete harte lady ffor to bee!" But Madge, ye hoyden, heard noe more,-- straightway upon her heele turnt shee, & shote ye cottage doore. VIII Soe Madge, ye hoyden, did her parte whiles that ye years did come and go; 't was somer allwais in her harte, tho' winter strewed her head with snowe. She toilt and span thro' all those years nor bid repine that it ben soe, nor never shad noe teares. IX Whiles Robin lay within his bed, A divell came and whispered lowe,-- "Giff you will doe my will," he said, "None more of sickness you shall knowe!" Ye which gave joy to Robin's soul-- Saies Robin: "Divell, be it soe, an that you make me whoale!" X That day, upp rising ffrom his bed, Quoth Robin: "I am well again!" & backe he came as from ye dead, & he ben mickle blithe as when he wooed his doxy long ago; & Madge did make ado & then Her teares ffor joy did flowe. XI Then came that hell-born cloven thing-- Saies: "Robin, I do claim your life, and I hencefoorth shall be your king, and you shall do my evill strife. Look round about and you shall see sr. Tomas' young and ffoolish wiffe-- a comely dame is shee!" XII Ye divell had him in his power, and not colde Robin say thereto: Soe Robin from that very houre did what that divell bade him do; He wooed and dipt, and on a daye Sr. Tomas' wife and Robin flewe a many leagues away. XIII Sir Tomas ben wood wroth and swore, And sometime strode thro' leaf & brake and knockit at ye cottage door and thus to Madge, ye hoyden, spake: Saies, "I wolde have you ffor mine own, So come with mee & bee my make, syn tother birds ben flown." XIV But Madge, ye hoyden, bade him noe; Saies: "Robin is my swete harte still, And, tho' he doth despight me soe, I mean to do him good for ill. So goe, Sir Tomas, goe your way; ffor whiles I bee on live I will ffor Robin's coming pray!" XV Soe Madge, ye hoyden, kneelt & prayed that Godde sholde send her Robin backe. And tho' ye folke vast scoffing made, and tho' ye worlde ben colde and blacke, And tho', as moneths dragged away, ye hoyden's harte ben like to crack With griff, she still did praye. XVI Sicke of that divell's damnèd charmes, Aback did Robin come at last, And Madge, ye hoyden, sprad her arms and gave a cry and held him fast; And as she clong to him and cried, her patient harte with joy did brast, & Madge, ye hoyden, died.