a poem about a young boy who was supposed to
> memorize a poem for class but all he could remember were single
> lines from several famous poems.

We'll probably need more clues than those, a line from the poem perhaps. Here's something to read while we wait.


=========================================================================
The Spirit Is Near
--Amy King

Wrapped in personal pity, betrayer sphinx slinks
and eats; it privately shuffles our motivations.
I like the capability of my eyes, the way they
brighten the woman on the curb by the church.
She will burst alive in two minutes. You cannot
believe the wind last night. The things it sells.
The sun buffs the surface of technology across
our city of cracks and cataracts, which also
ignores the shoes rubbing my feet from their bones.
Enter some disease where the woman sells
her tears prior to civilization. That moment is now
upon the funeral pyre. In the crumblings and ramblings
of old men seated in tired t-shirts on the stoops
everlasting, they survey remainders of wars over-lived
and fat berries beyond the perimeter ripened
with blood brought back from the dust fields
by the worms underfoot and pregnant.
We make wine to toast the cross and tender liars.


Les

AN OVERWORKED ELOCUTIONIST
by Carolyn Wells (1869-1942)

There was once a little boy whose name was Robert Reese;
And every Friday afternoon he had to speak a piece.
So many poems thus he learned, that soon he had a store
Of recitations in his head... but he still kept learning more.

And now this is what happened: He was called upon one week
And totally forgot the piece he was about to speak.
He brain he cudgeled. Not a word remained within his head!
And so he spoke at random, and this is what he said:

"My beautiful, my beautiful, who standest proudly by,
It was the schooner Hesperus--the breaking waves dashed high!
Why is this Forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?
Under a spreading chestnut tree, there is no place like home!

When freedom from her mountain height cried, "Twinkle, little star,"
Shoot if you must this old gray head, King Henry of Navarre!
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue castled crag of Drachenfels,
My name is Norval, on the Grampain Hills, ring out, wild bells!

If you're waking, call me early, to be or not to be,
The curfew must not ring tonight! Oh, woodman, spare that tree!
Charge, Chester, charge! Oh, Stanley, on! and let who will be clever!
The boy stood on the burning deck, but I go on forever!"

His elocution was superb, his voice and gestures fine;
His schoolmates all applauded as he finished the last line.
"I see it doesn't matter," Robert thought, "what words I say,
So long as I declaim with oratorical display."

Wonderful! Well found and thank you for posting it. I do hope kkramer comes back to find it.

.
amazing !

Yeah, nice catch! I don't see it in Carolyn Wells's Book of Humorous Verse, and the site below claims it is anonymous, so the cite would be of value as well.

[tinyurl.com]

I can't get the original Google link to load, but it still shows up in the cache.

Further for the fastidious - a poem composed of lines of other poems is called a ... ?

Answer below.

































Cento

Here it is in a collection Hugh: [72.14.203.104]


Les

Settles the issue for me, thx.

a 1908 newspaper says
( Carolyn Wells)

in 'Saint Nicholas'