Uncollected poems and prose of Edwin Arlington Robinson | ||
46
LIMERICKS
[1]
There was a calm man in SabattisWho shot at a skunk through a lattice.
The skunk became dead.
“I got him,” he said,
“And now let me see where my hat is.”
[2]
There's this about the HinduHe does the best he kin do,
But when he wants
A pair of pants
He has to make his skin do.
[3]
There was a pale artist named Ransom,Whose hands were exceedingly handsome.
To be sure they were seen
He painted them green
And held them all day through the transom.
Uncollected poems and prose of Edwin Arlington Robinson | ||