Poems begining by B

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Boys and Girls Come out to Play

© Mother Goose

Boys and girls come out to play,The moon does shine as bright as day;Come with a hoop, and come with a call,Come with a good will or not at all

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Bah, Bah, Black Sheep

© Mother Goose

Bah, bah, black sheep, Have you any wool?Yes, marry have I, Three bags full;One for my master, One for my dame,But none for the little boyWho cries in the lane.

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Business

© Moritz Albert Frank

Stiff, thick: the white hair of the broad-faced father,who leads his shambling son alongcracked sidewalks, by dusty glass half hidinggoods never sold

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Bitter Sanctuary

© Harold Monro

Clients have left their photos there to perish.She watches through green shutters those who pressTo reach unconsciousness.

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B- / C+

© McGimpsey David

This is a most interesting paper,David

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Blown Hilcote Manor

© John Masefield

In perfect June we reached the house to let,In remote woodland, up a private lane,Beyond a pond that seemed as black as jetWhereon a moorhen oared with chickens twain;And from the first a sense of want or debtSeemed to possess the place from ancient pain

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Breath

© Marquis Donald Robert Perry

We are the shaken slaves of Breath:For logic leaves the race unstirred;But cadence, and the vibrant word,Are lords of life, are lords of death.

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Brise marine

© Stéphane Mallarme

La chair est triste, hélas! et j'ai lu tous les livres

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Ballade of Evil

© MacInnes Tom

Evil! What poor argument We mortals hear to make us trustThat as for God he never meant To bait this hook of pain with lust! Then by what devil was it thrustThro' the filmy first upheaval Of our planetary dust?No man knoweth the end of evil

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Brahma

© Andrew Lang

(AFTER EMERSON)

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Ballade of the Girton Girl

© Andrew Lang

She has just 'put her gown on' at Girton, She is learned in Latin and Greek,But lawn tennis she plays with a skirt on That the prudish remark with a shriek

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Ballad of the Gibbet

© Andrew Lang

An epitaph in the form of a ballad that François Villonwrote of himself and his company, they expectingshortly to be hanged

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Body Shop

© L'Abbé Sonnet

Your body's got the wrong features?Oh, wainh, wainh!

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Brier: Good Friday

© Emily Pauline Johnson

Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm, I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.

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Before Action

© Hodgson William Noel

By all the glories of the day,And the cool evening's benison:By the last sunset touch that layUpon the hills when day was done:By beauty lavishly outpoured,And blessings carelessly received,By all the days that I have lived,Make me a soldier, Lord

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Beale Street Blues

© Handy William Christopher

I've seen the lights of gay Broadway,Old Market Street down by the Frisco Bay,I've strolled the Prado, I've gambled on the BourseThe seven wonders of the world I've seenAnd many are the places I have been

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Bypass

© Hamilton Jane Eaton

You will smell onionshe said. Countbackward from one hundred.

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By Bread Alone

© Gilbert Ruth

Love, love, I cannot live by bread aloneThe bread we break and eat monotonouslyUpon my lips turns back, turns back to stone.

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Backward

© Fiorentino Jon Paul

Don't call me anymoreplay the video game backward