He left his dust, by all the myria… Of yon dense millions trampled to… Or 'neath some cross forgotten lay… Where dark seas whiten on a lonely… He left his work, what all his lif…

You will find me drinking rum, Like a sailor in a slum, You will find me drinking beer lik… You will find me drinking gin In the lowest kind of inn

Now that I kneel at the throne, O… Pity and pardon me. Much have I striven to sing the s… Brother of beast and tree; Yet when the stars catch me alone

There is a place where lute and ly… Where scrolls are torn and on a wi… Where tablets stand wiped naked fo… Where laurels wither and the daisi… Lo: I too join the brotherhood of…

The phrases of the street are not only forcible but subtle: for a figure of speech can often get into a crack too small for a definition. Phrases like “put out” or “off colour” might ha...

There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeles… All men are at home. The crazy stable close at hand,

Britannia needs no Boulevards, No spaces wide and gay: Her march was through the crooked… Along the narrow way. Nor looks she where, New York’s s…

Passionate peace is in the sky— And in the snow in silver sealed The beasts are perfect in the fiel… And men seem men so suddenly— (But take ten swords and ten times…

Though giant rains put out the sun… Here stand I for a sign. Though earth be filled with waters… My cup is filled with wine. Tell to the trembling priests that…

"A BILL WHICH HAS SHO… EVERY CHRISTIAN COM… Mr. F.E. Smith, ON THE WE… Are they clinging to their crosses… F.E. Smith,

Old King Cole Was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he He called for his pipe and he called for his bowl

When I came back to Fleet Street… Through a sunset nook at night, And saw the old Green Dragon With the windows all alight, And hailed the old Green Dragon

A livid sky on London And like the iron steeds that rear A shock of engines halted And I knew the end was near: And something said that far away,…

If I had been a Heathen, I’d have praised the purple vine, My slaves should dig the vineyards… And I would drink the wine. But Higgins is a Heathen,

When Death was on thy drums, Demo… And with one rush of slaves the wo… In that high dawn that Kings shal… A void there was and Walter was n… Through sacked Versailles, at Val…