a poem about poetry, taught to me by my grandmother, Clara Belle Aldrich (nee Cady)

This is a poem which was taught to me^* by my grandmother, Clara Belle Aldrich (née Clara Belle Cady), when I was a child:

There's metre iambic and metre trochaic and metre that's tender in tone. But the metre that's neater and sweeter completer is meet her by moonlight, alone. -author and title unknown

Wondering what those words mean? See metre.htm (or here).

This is a poem which was taught to me^* by my mother, Jane A. Asher (née Jane A. Beall, née Jane A. Burton, née Jane Carrier Aldrich), when I was a child:

Johnny was a chemist's son, But Johnny is no more. For what he thought was H₂O, Was H₂SO₄. -author and title unknown

^* I am Dave Burton. My grandparents were professors, at Oglethorpe University and elsewhere. Grandma taught English and Latin, and her husband, my grandfather, Dr. John Abram Aldrich, was an astrophysicist. Their daughter (my mother) was a chemist, and, like poor Johnny, I am a chemist's son.