#EnglishWriters #XXCentury
IF only I were Santa Claus I 'd… To every hovel where there lies a… I’d drive my reindeer over roofs t… I ‘d seek the tenements where slee… Where rags are stuffed in broken p…
I wish I was a poet like the men… The poems that we have to learn on… I’d write of things that children… An’ when the kids recited them the… If I’d been born a Whittier, inst…
If certain folks that I know well Should come to me their woes to te… I’d read the sorrow in their faces And I could analyze their cases. I watch some couples day by day
If he is honest, kindly, true, And glad to work from day to day; If when his bit of toil is through With children he will stoop to pla… If he does always what he can
I might have been rich if I’d wan… I’ve made. I might have had fame if I’d soug… purposely played. Now I’m standing to-day on the fa…
You can buy, if you’ve got money,… You can pay for bread and honey, a… But when trouble comes to fret you… For the gentle hand of friendship… You can buy with gold and silver t…
When the umpire calls you out, It’s no use to stamp and shout, Wildly kicking dust about— Play the game! And though his decision may
NEVER so happy as when I ‘m at… I ’m not so anxious to wander or r… Rather sit down with the folks who… With somebody’s youngster astride… And gallop him off to the wonderfu…
Bill Jones, who goes to school wi… Is the saddest boy I ever see. He’s just so 'fraid he runs away When all of us fellows want to pla… An’ says he dassent stay about
When father couldn’t wear them mot… She took the slack in fore and aft… They fitted rather loosely, but th… Were the horizontal pockets that t… They shone like patent leather jus…
We have room for the man with an h… With his heart on fire and his eye… We have room for the man with a pu… Who comes to our shores to start l… But we haven’t an inch of space fo…
The world’s too busy now to pause To listen to a whiner’s cause; It has no time to stop and pet The sulker in a peevish fret, Who wails he’ll neither work nor p…
There’s a heap of pent-up goodness in the yellow bantam corn, And I sort o’ like to linger round a berry patch at morn; Oh, the Lord has set our table
I follow a famous father, His honor is mine to wear; He gave me a name that was free fr… A name he was proud to bear. He lived in the morning sunlight,
Adown the lanes of memory bloom al… And looking back we smile to see l… The little sprigs of mignonette th… The pansy and the violet, too swee… The gentle mother by the door care…