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Poems with rhymes of dirt

Displaying 20 out of 119 poems with rhymes of dirt.

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  1. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
    Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
  2. They mak' Him in the Broomielaw, o' Glasgie cold an' dirt,
    A jealous, pridefu' fetich, lad, that's only strong to hurt,
  3. They mak' Him in the Broomielaw, o' Glasgie cold an' dirt,
    A jealous, pridefu' fetich, lad, that's only strong to hurt,
  4. 'Twas mostly leaves, and bark, and dirt;
    The party most concerned
    Appeared to think it wouldn't hurt
  5. Now, when a bloke 'e cracks a bloke fer insults to a skirt,
    An' wrecks a joint to square a lady's name,
    They used to call it chivalry, but now they calls it dirt,
  6. Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
    Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!
  7. 'Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt;
    But I fell away with the Corp'ral's stock
    and the best of the Corp'ral's shirt.
  8. So pale as death I held my breath below that billowed skirt,
    And a she sat I wondered at her voice so calm and clear;
    Serene and still she spoke to Bill like he was so much dirt:
  9. I owned a single shirt;
    Like canny Scot I bought it black
    So's not to show the dirt;
  10. Carousing in the Dirt.
    He Shook him hard from Side to Side
    And Hit him till it Hurt,
  11. The next person you go to hurt
    or try to make feel like dirt
  12. How her pride was hurt!
    She counted francs as dirt,
  13. Laboured mounds that a foot or a wanton stick may subvert;
    Homely are they for a lowly look on bedewed grass-blades,
    On citied fir-droppings, on twisted wreaths of the worm in dirt.
  14. E'er thou hast held their hands; some heedless flirt
    Will over-spread thy calves with spatt'ring dirt.
  15. On the cuff of his shirt
    He had managed to get
    What we hoped had been dirt,
  16. Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,
    And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
  17. A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.
    Legree he had a beard like a goat,
    And a thick hairy neck, and eyes like dirt.
  18. And search the dirt.
    Worms or bettles, small or big,
    Are my dessert;
  19. And Willie Clow was hurt,
    And all that gallant cow-boy band
    Lay wallowing in the dirt.
  20. Always thinks that he’ll be hurt,
    Soil his jacket in the dirt,

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