Nurse Maureen Kelly Diary Entry (137)

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OUGHT-TO-GRAPH


And to enter it aspire;

When an album I admire,

'Tis so hard to drop upon it

Just some sane and simple sonnet.

Bright and britty, happy verse,

Catchly, homely, lovely, terse-

Bount do please, and worthy, sure,

Of my flowery signature!

I look behind and look before,

                          2

scratch my head and pace the floor,

Put my pencil to my lip, 

Heavenward raise my nose's tip;

All in vain the effort seems:

Brings my head no poet's dreams!

Then I try my luck in bed;

Every inspiration fled!

                          3

There I struggle for a time,

First with "metre" then with "rhime",

Long to have, as I once read -

an icy bandage round my head!                   

I cry like multon to the muse.

I may call but will she choose?

For I wont give in and lose!

                          4

Perhaps my hair is far too short, 

Poets wear it (or they ought)

Flowing from the swellong pate - 

Mine is in an awful state.

"Tatcho tell me do they sell 'em

as they did in ante bellum."

For my troubled cerebellum?

                           5

Oh album, I am in despair!

Treres no time to grow the hair!

Sister wants her album back,

Verse and couplet still I lack -

Ive got weased, worried, hurried,

I am frelting, sweating, flurried, 

Help! I'mfulling! Is it deep?

Oh, thank you, nurse, I've been asleep!

I've got a pain dont stand and laugh;

But "give me something" - for an autograph!

S. Burton

young DARKIE


Transcription saved

OUGHT-TO-GRAPH


And to enter it aspire;

When an album I admire,

'Tis so hard to drop upon it

Just some sane and simple sonnet.

Bright and britty, happy verse,

Catchly, homely, lovely, terse-

Bount do please, and worthy, sure,

Of my flowery signature!

I look behind and look before,

                          2

scratch my head and pace the floor,

Put my pencil to my lip, 

Heavenward raise my nose's tip;

All in vain the effort seems:

Brings my head no poet's dreams!

Then I try my luck in bed;

Every inspiration fled!

                          3

There I struggle for a time,

First with "metre" then with "rhime",

Long to have, as I once read -

an icy bandage round my head!                   

I cry like multon to the muse.

I may call but will she choose?

For I wont give in and lose!

                          4

Perhaps my hair is far too short, 

Poets wear it (or they ought)

Flowing from the swellong pate - 

Mine is in an awful state.

"Tatcho tell me do they sell 'em

as they did in ante bellum."

For my troubled cerebellum?

                           5

Oh album, I am in despair!

Treres no time to grow the hair!

Sister wants her album back,

Verse and couplet still I lack -

Ive got weased, worried, hurried,

I am frelting, sweating, flurried, 

Help! I'mfulling! Is it deep?

Oh, thank you, nurse, I've been asleep!

I've got a pain dont stand and laugh;

But "give me something" - for an autograph!

S. Burton

young DARKIE



Transcription history
  • February 7, 2017 13:52:49 Stefania Biron

    OUGHT-TO-GRAPH


    And to enter it aspire;

    When an album I admire,

    'Tis so hard to drop upon it

    Just some sane and simple sonnet.

    Bright and britty, happy verse,

    Catchly, homely, lovely, terse-

    Bount do please, and worthy, sure,

    Of my flowery signature!

    I look behind and look before,

                              2

    scratch my head and pace the floor,

    Put my pencil to my lip, 

    Heavenward raise my nose's tip;

    All in vain the effort seems:

    Brings my head no poet's dreams!

    Then I try my luck in bed;

    Every inspiration fled!

                              3

    There I struggle for a time,

    First with "metre" then with "rhime",

    Long to have, as I once read -

    an icy bandage round my head!                   

    I cry like multon to the muse.

    I may call but will she choose?

    For I wont give in and lose!

                              4

    Perhaps my hair is far too short, 

    Poets wear it (or they ought)

    Flowing from the swellong pate - 

    Mine is in an awful state.

    "Tatcho tell me do they sell 'em

    as they did in ante bellum."

    For my troubled cerebellum?

                               5

    Oh album, I am in despair!

    Treres no time to grow the hair!

    Sister wants her album back,

    Verse and couplet still I lack -

    Ive got weased, worried, hurried,

    I am frelting, sweating, flurried, 

    Help! I'mfulling! Is it deep?

    Oh, thank you, nurse, I've been asleep!

    I've got a pain dont stand and laugh;

    But "give me something" - for an autograph!

    S. Burton

    young DARKIE



  • February 7, 2017 13:47:03 Stefania Biron

    OUGHT-TO-GRAPH


    And to enter it aspire;

    When an album I admire,

    'Tis so hard to drop upon it

    Just some sane and simple sonnet.

    Bright and britty, happy verse,

    Catchly, homely, lovely, terse-

    Bount do please, and worthy, sure,

    Of my flowery signature!

    I look behind and look before,

                              2

    scratch my head and pace the floor,

    Put my pencil to my lip, 

    Heavenward raise my nose's tip;

    All in vain the effort seems:

    Brings my head no poet's dreams!

    Then I try my luck in bed;

    Every inspiration fled!

                              3

    There I struggle for a time,

    First with "metre" then with "rhime",

    Long to have, as I once read -

    an icy bandage round my head!                   

    I cry like multon to the muse.

    I may call but will she choose?

    For I wont give in and lose!

                              4

    Perhaps my hair is far too short, 

    Poets wear it (or they ought)


  • February 7, 2017 13:43:30 Stefania Biron

    OUGHT-TO-GRAPH


    And to enter it aspire;

    When an album I admire,

    'Tis so hard to drop upon it

    Just some sane and simple sonnet.

    Bright and britty, happy verse,

    Catchly, homely, lovely, terse-

    Bount do please, and worthy, sure,

    Of my flowery signature!

    I look behind and look before,

                              2

    scratch my head and pace the floor,

    Put my pencil to my lip, 

    Heavenward raise my nose's tip;

    All in vain the effort seems:

    Brings my head no poet's dreams!

    Then I try my luck in bed;

    Every inspiration fled!

                              3

    There I struggle for a time,

    First with "metre" then with "rhime",

    Long to have, as I once read -

    an ... bandage round my head!                   





Description

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  • 51.36930676917801||-0.09823400000004767||

    Croydon

    ||1
Location(s)
  • Story location Croydon


ID
3533 / 55446
Source
http://europeana1914-1918.eu/...
Contributor
Eva Bunyan
License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/


  • English

  • Italian Front

  • Medical



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