Much more solemn than the others I’ve posted

Grass.

BY CARL SANDBURG.

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo Shovel them under and let me work— I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor: What place is this? Where are we now?

I am the grass. Let me work.

Another one from the very old book of poetry that was my grandma's.

**The Duel

Eugene Field 1850 – 1895**

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.)*

This is one of my favorites, because you can almost hear the dance music in the verses.

The Minuet (1879) by Mary Mapes Dodge

Grandma told me all about it,

Told me so I couldn’t doubt it,

How she danced—my Grandma danced!—.

Long ago.

How she held her pretty head,

How her dainty skirt she spread,

Turning out her little toes;

How she slowly leaned and rose—.

Long ago.

Grandma’s hair was bright and sunny;

Dimpled cheeks, too—ah, how funny!

Really quite a pretty girl,

Long ago.

Bless her! why, she wears a cap,

Grandma does, and takes a nap.

Every single day; and yet.

Grandma danced the minuet.

Long ago.

Now she sits there, rocking, rocking,

Always knitting Grandpa’s stocking—.

(Every girl was taught to knit.

Long ago.).

Yet her figure is so neat,

And her ways so staid and sweet,

I can almost see her now.

Bending to her partner’s bow,

Long ago.

Grandma says our modern jumping,

Hopping, rushing, whirling, bumping,

Would have shocked the gentle folk.

Long ago.

No—they moved with stately grace,

Everything in proper place,

Gliding slowly forward, then.

Slowly courtseying back again,

Long ago.

Modern ways are quite alarming,

Grandma says; but boys were charming—.

Girls and boys, I mean, of course—.

Long ago.

Brave but modest, grandly shy,—.

She would like to have us try.

Just to feel like those who met.

In the graceful minuet.

Long ago.

Were the minuet in fashion,

Who could fly into a passion?

All would wear the calm they wore.

Long ago.

In time to come, if I, perchance,

Should tell my grandchild of our dance,

I should really like to say:

“We did it, dear, in some such way,

Long ago.”

When I was a kid, my grandmother gave me a slender book titled “101 Classic Poems.” I’m 59, and this was hers when she was young, so these are some old timey poems! I can go through it and post some of them if anyone would be interested.