People liked him, not because He was rich or known to fame; He had never won applause As a star in any game. His was not a brilliant style,

Fish can be bought in the market p… So it isn’t the fish I’m after. I want to get free from the care-d… And back to an honest laughter, I want to get out where the skies…

GIUSEPPE TOMASSI ees stylis… He wear da white collar an’ cuff, He says: ‘For expanse I no giva d… Da basta ees not good enough.’ When out weeth hees Rosa he wear…

ABOVE it flies the flag we love, Within it is the blood we gave; It stands a part and portion of The courage that once freed the sl… The strength that fought for liber…

The little woman, to her I bow And doff my hat as I pass her by; I reverence the furrows that mark… And the sparkling love light in he… The little woman who stays at home…

I think my country needs my vote, I know it doesn’t need my throat, My lungs and larynx, too; And so I sit at home at night And teach my children what is righ…

NO MAN really knows enough To be hateful to his brother, None is rich enough to cuff And be cruel to another; None so clever that he can

’Twas hard to think that he must g… We knew that we should miss him so… We thought that he must always sta… Beside us, laughing, day by day; That he must never know the care

Vacation time! How glad it seemed When as a boy I sat and dreamed Above my school books, of the fun That I should claim when toil was… And, Oh, how oft my youthful eye

When you get to know a fellow, kno… When you’ve come to understand him… When you’ve learned the fight he’s… Then you find that he is different… You find his faults are trivial an…

The things that haven’t been done… Those are the things to try; Columbus dreamed of an unknown sho… At the rim of the far-flung sky, And his heart was bold and his fai…

There are different kinds of heroe… They get their pictures printed, a… There are heroes known to glory th… In the service of their country an… There are brave men in the trenche…

Old-fashioned flowers! I love the… The morning-glories on the wall, The pansies in their patch of shad… The violets, stolen from a glade, The bleeding hearts and columbine,

At Sugar Camp the cook is kind And laughs the laugh we knew as bo… And there we slip away and find Awaiting us the old-time joys. The catbird calls the selfsame way

My Pa says that he used to be A bright boy in geography; An’ when he went to school he knew The rivers an’ the mountains, too, An’ all the capitals of states