The Passionate Householder to his… Come, live with us and be our cook… And we will all the whimsies brook That German, Irish, Swede, and S… And all the dear domestics have.

Horace: Epode 25 “Nox erat et cælo fulgebat Luna s… How sweet the moonlight sleeps,"… “Upon this bank!” that starry nigh… The night you vowed you’d be devot…

LINES PROVOKED BY HE… No carmine radical in Art, I worship at the shrine of Form; Yet open are my mind and heart To each departure from the norm.

When the Festal Board, as the pap… Groans 'neath the weight of a lot… At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeun… (As a bard tri-lingual I’m rather… At breakfast, then, if I may repe…

How do you tackle your work each d… Are you scared of the job you find… Do you grapple the task that comes… With a confident, easy mind? Do you stand right up to the work…

Writers of baseball, attention! When you’re again on the job– When, in your rage for invention, You with the language play hob– Most of your dope we will pardon,

A soft susurrus in the night, A song whose singer is unseen– ’Twere poetry itself to write ‘A soft susurrus in the night!’ I know, as those mosquitos bite,

Whenever the penner of this pome Regards a lovely country home, He sighs, in words not insincere, “I think I’d like to live out her… And when the builder of this ditty

Oh, some may sing of the surging s… of the raging main; Or tell of the taffrail blown away… hurricane. With an oh, of the feel of the sal…

Where are the wheezes they essayed And where the smiles they made to… Where’s Caron’s seltzer siphon la… A squirt from which laid Herbert… Where’s Charlie Case’s comic woe

Horace: Book III, Ode 30 “Exegi monumentum aere perennius—” The monument that I have built is… And loftier than the Pyramids whi… No blizzard can destroy it, nor fu…

I remember, I remember The house where I was born; The rent was thirty-two a month, Which made my father mourn. He said he could remember when

(With the usual.) In winter I get up at night, And dress by an electric light. In summer, autumn, ay, and spring, I have to do the self-same thing.

William, it was, I think, three y… As I recall, one cool October mor… (You have The Tribune files; I t… I gave you warning). I said, in well-selected words and…

(Parody is a genre frowned upon by… of literature... And yet it is a g… ‘The Point of View’ in May _Scri… A sweet disorder in the verse That never looks behind