Whale, The
Hilaire Belloc
The Whale that wanders round the Pole Is not a table fish. You cannot bake or boil him whole Nor serve him in a dish; But you may cut his blubber up And melt it down for oil. And so replace the colza bean (A product of the soil). These facts should all be noted down And ruminated on, By every boy in Oxford town Who wants to be a Don.
Next 10 Poems
- Hilaire Belloc : Yak, The
- John Betjeman : A Bay In Anglesey
- John Betjeman : A Shropshire Lad
- John Betjeman : A Subaltern's Love Song
- John Betjeman : An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield
- John Betjeman : Back From Australia
- John Betjeman : Business Girls
- John Betjeman : Christmas
- John Betjeman : Cornish Cliffs
- John Betjeman : Dawlish
Previous 10 Poems
- Hilaire Belloc : Vulture, The
- Hilaire Belloc : Time Cures All
- Hilaire Belloc : Tiger, The
- Hilaire Belloc : The Yak
- Hilaire Belloc : The World Is Full Of Double Beds
- Hilaire Belloc : The Whale
- Hilaire Belloc : The Vulture
- Hilaire Belloc : The Tiger
- Hilaire Belloc : The Telephone
- Hilaire Belloc : The Statue