I love this one too. It is so easy to see her tossing and turning and thrashing the sheets. And saying he is my Lord and my Doom is pretty apt too, when we let anger rule us no good really comes of it.

I have my copy now as well, and I'd be happy to take a letter.

I liked the personification of anger in the is last poem. The tone is almost a little light-hearted, but the final lines,
Ah no, his honest words are such
That he’s my true-lord, and my doom.
are much heavier. If we believe our anger to be truth rather than emotion or perception, then we are in trouble.

An Animal Alphabet

The Absolutely Abstemious Ass,
who resided in a Barrel, and only lived on
Soda Water and Pickled Cucumbers.


The Bountiful Beetle,
who always carried a Green Umbrella when it didn't rain,
and left it at home when it did.


The Comfortable Confidential Cow,
who sate in her Red Morocco Arm Chair and
toasted her own Bread at the parlour Fire.


The Dolomphious Duck,
who caught Spotted Frogs for her dinner
with a Runcible Spoon.


The Enthusiastic Elephant,
who ferried himself across the water with the
Kitchen Poker and a New pair of Ear-rings.


The Fizzgiggious Fish,
who always walked about upon Stilts,
because he had no legs.


The Good-natured Grey Gull,
who carried the Old Owl, and his Crimson Carpet-bag,
across the river, because he could not swim.


The Hasty Higgeldipiggledy Hen,
who went to market in a Blue Bonnet and Shawl,
and bought a Fish for her Supper.


The Inventive Indian,
who caught a Remarkable Rabbit in a
Stupendous Silver Spoon.


The Judicious Jubilant Jay,
who did up her Back Hair every morning with a Wreath of Roses,
Three feathers, and a Gold Pin.


The Kicking Kangaroo,
who wore a Pale Pink Muslin dress
with Blue spots.


The Lively Learned Lobster,
who mended his own Clothes with
a Needle and Thread.


The Melodious Meritorious Mouse,
who played a merry minuet on the
Piano-forte.


The Nutritious Newt,
who purchased a Round Plum-pudding
for his grand-daughter.


The Obsequious Ornamental Ostrich,
who wore Boots to keep his
feet quite dry.


The Perpendicular Purple Polly,
who read the Newspaper and ate Parsnip Pie
with his Spectacles.


The Queer Querulous Quail,
who smoked a Pipe of tobacco on the top of
a Tin Tea-kettle.


The Rural Runcible Raven,
who wore a White Wig and flew away
with the Carpet Broom.


The Scroobious Snake,
who always wore a Hat on his Head, for
fear he should bite anybody.


The Tumultuous Tom-tommy Tortoise,
who beat a Drum all day long in the
middle of the wilderness.


The Umbrageous Umbrella-maker,
whose Face nobody ever saw, because it was
always covered by his Umbrella.


The Visibly Vicious Vulture,
who wrote some Verses to a Veal-cutlet in a
Volume bound in Vellum.


The Worrying Whizzing Wasp,
who stood on a Table, and played sweetly on a
Flute with a Morning Cap.


The Excellent Double-extra XX
imbibing King Xerxes, who lived a
long while ago.


The Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
whose Head was ever so much bigger than his
Body, and whose Hat was rather small.


The Zigzag Zealous Zebra,
who carried five Monkeys on his back all
the way to Jellibolee.

EDWARD LEAR

Edward Lear was a very good artist. I like his paintings.

I like Lear a lot, but I never liked this one, not even in the illustrated book format...

Now, here is an interesting one:

Another Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries

It is a God-damned lie to say that these
Saved, or knew, anything worth a man's pride.
They were professional murderers and they took
Their blood money and impious risks and died.
In spite of all their kind some elements of worth
With difficulty persist here and there on earth.

Hugh MacDiarmid

(In reply to A E Houseman)

A bit of controversy it seems - on this blog:

http://war-poets.blogspot.com/2009/02/e ... itaph.html

It is a shame that the response came before the original alphabetically.... I had to go look at the other one simply because I know it exists, but it didn't illuminate this poem any further... not really a good one in my mind, no dings here....

Here's a real goody:-

anyone lived in a pretty how town
by E. E. Cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain


I don't really know what it is that I find so charming in this poem, it isn't that it says a lot in a few words.....it is just such a delight, to know exactly what he means, in the secret language of cummings.

cummings is great, but, I don't think this is one of his best. This one almost has a Dr Suess feel to it, or maybe I have children's poems on my mind because of An Animal Alphabet, which I thought was particularly bad, though I am sure with good illustration and an enthusiastic reading could be enjoyed by young children, but on its own, I am at a loss at why it was included.

The Hugh MacDiarmid one, I'm not sure about. I'll have to read the A E Houseman poem and then go back and have a second look.

Now I can make more sense out of the Hugh MacDiarmid response. I like A E Houseman's poem much better than MacDiarmid's response which sounds like he talking about a different nature of mercenary. If a mercenary is anyone being paid to fight a war, then wouldn't may soldiers would be guilty of this? I'll have a look at the link that Penelope posted on the controversy.

I remember discussing this in the 500 thread. I have since read analysis by several different people of cummings time and since. I guess it just isn't for me to feel like I "get it" I did enjoy reading it aloud to my Grandchildren though, maybe one of them can chew on it and get back to me