“Oh bard,” I said, “your verse is… The shackles that encumber me, The fetters that are my obsession, Are never gyves to your expression… ”The fear of falsities in rhyme,

Chloris lay off the flapper stuff; What’s fit for Pholoë, a fluff, Is not for Ibycus’s wife— A woman at your time of life! Ignore, old dame, such pleasures a…

I do not hold with him who thinks The world is jonahed by a jinx; That everything is sad and sour, And life a withered hothouse flowe… I hate the Polyanna pest

Sing, O Muse, in treble clef, A little song of the A.E.F., And pardon me, please, if I give… To something akin to sentiment. But we have our moments Over Here

Swift was sweet on Stella; Poe had his Lenore; Burns’ fancy turned to Nancy And a dozen more. Poe was quite a trifler;

Horace: Book I, Ode 19 “Mater sæva Cupidinum” Venus, the cruel mother of The Cupids (symbolising Love), Bids me to muse upon and sigh

Tell me not, in doctored numbers, Life is but a name for work! For the labour that encumbers Me I wish that I could shirk. Life is phony! Life is rotten!

(There is said to be a steady dema… in England. There are readers who… sedative for tired nerves; there a… Trollope’s quiet humour. Some peo… James’s tangled syntax the restful…

“C’est distingue,” says Madame La… ’Tis a fabric of subtle distinctio… For street wear it is superb. The chic of the Rue de la Paix— The style of Fifth Avenue—

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…

(Who hitches laundering articles t… string and pastes them on the pane… Lady, thou that livest Just across the way, If a hang thou givest

In 1909 toilet goods were not cons… In 1919 an assortment of perfumes… —From “How the Farmer Has Change… Maud Muller, on a summer’s day, Powdered her nose with Bon Sachet…

‘Scorn not the sonnet.’ Well, I r… I would not scorn a rondeau, villa… Ballade, sestina, triolet, rondel, Or e’en a quatrain, humble and for… An so it made my Pegasus to trot

I rise and applaud, in the patriot… Whenever (as often) I hear The palpitanat strains of “The St… I shout and cheer. And also, to show my unbound devot…

(March 4, 1913) Thine aid, O Muse, I consciously… I crave thy succour, ask for thine… That men may cry: “Some little od… O Muse, grant me the strength to…