Ogden Nash
Ogden Nash
Frederic Ogden Nashwas an American poet well known for his light verse. At the time of his death in 1971, The New York Times said his "droll verse with its unconventional rhymes made him the country's best-known producer of humorous poetry". Nash wrote over 500 pieces of comic verse. The best of his work was published in 14 volumes between 1931 and 1972...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth19 August 1902
CityTown Of Rye, NY
CountryUnited States of America
The Pig, if I am not mistaken, Gives us ham and pork and Bacon. Let others think his heart is big, I think it stupid of the Pig.
There once was an umpire whose vision Was cause for abuse and derision He remarked in surprise, 'Why pick on my eyes? It's my heart that dictates my decision.'
The Pig, if I am not mistaken, Supplies us sausage, ham, and Bacon. Let others say his heart is big, I think it stupid of the Pig.
Then here's to the heartening wassail, Wherever good fellows are found; Be its master instead of its vassal, and order the glasses around.
Here's a toast to the roast that good fellowship lends, with the sparkle of beer and wine; May its sentiment always be deeper, my friends, than the foam at the top of the stein. Then here's to the heartening wassail, wherever good fellows are found; Be its master instead of its vassal, and order the glasses around.
Humor is hope's companion in arms. It is not brash, it is not cheap, it is not heartless. Among other things I think humor is a shield, a weapon, a survival kit.
The camel has a single hump;/ The dromedary, two;/ Or else the other way around./ I'm never sure. Are you?
Door: What a dog is perpetually on the wrong side of.
Beneath this slab/ John Brown is stowed./ He watched the ads,/ And not the road.
Every Englishman knows one thing - that to be an Englishman is the best thing there is.
Bankers are just like everyone else only richer.
Bankers are just like anybody else, except richer
Now, anybody whom a German hates, He presently exterminates, But he who exterminates a French Is never safe from Gallic revenge, But he who gets even with a German Is obliterated like a vermin
Any kiddies in school can love like a fool,/ But hating, my boy, is an art.