#English #XXCentury
There’ve been times we’d disagree Somethin’ awful, Ma an’ me; Times when I would bang the door Never to come back no more, An’ go stompin’ down the street
Jes’ the sort o’ weather and jes’… Which seem to suit my fancy, with… On a sea o’ smooth blue water. Oh… With an 'I’ in all my thinkin’, b… That the Lord who made us humans…
Eagerly he took my dime, Then shuffled on his way, Thick with sin and filth and grime… But I wondered all that day How the man had gone astray.
Apples on the table an’ the grate-… Oh, I’m sure the whole world hasn… The Mother sittin’ mendin’ little… An’ tellin’ all that’s happened th… Oh, I don’t know how to say it, b…
These are the peaks of valor; keep… Too brave for petty profit to risk… Adventuring for the future, yet mi… For God, for country and for home… These are the peaks of valor: a sp…
No war is won by cannon fire alone… The soldier bears the grim and dre… He dies to serve the Flag that he… His duty is to gain the distant go… But if the toiler in his homeland…
My Pa he eats his breakfast in a funny sort of way: We hardly ever see him at the first meal of the day. Ma puts his food before him
Days are gettin’ shorter an’ the a… Apples now are droppin’ into Moth… The mist at dusk is risin’ over va… An’ it’s just as plain as sunshine… The turkeys now are struttin’ roun…
The shoemaker sticks to his last a… By divorce, though, we wouldn’t be… If everyone else in this great wor… Would be willing to stick to his f…
When my hair is thin and silvered,… When I’ve many years behind me, a… I shall want to sit, I reckon, so… An’ recall the roads I’ve travele… An’ I hope there’ll be no picture…
There ain’t the joy in foreign ski… An’ friendliness o’ foreign folks… An’ far-off landscapes with their… As jes’ that little patch o’ green… It’s good to feel a stranger’s han…
Bit of a priest and a bit of sailo… Bit of a doctor and bit of a tailo… Bit of a lawyer, and bit of detect… Bit of a judge, for his work is co… Cheering the living and soothing t…
YOU don’t weigh more than thirty… Your legs are little, plump and fa… And yet you patter on your rounds The whole day long within our flat… Yes, ceaselessly, you come and go,
You cannot gather every rose, Nor every pleasure claim, Nor bask in every breeze that blow… Nor play in every game. No millionaire could ever own
I’m standing at my lathe all day And this is what I hear it say: ‘The best of you, the best of me Are needed now across the sea. We do not hear the cannon roar,
