#Americans #XXCentury
People expect old men to die, They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People loo… At them with eyes that wonder when… People watch with unshocked eyes;
Geniuses of countless nations Have told their love for generatio… Till all their memorable phrases Are common as goldenrod or daisies… Their girls have glimmered like th…
Being a father Is quite a bother. You are as free as air With time to spare, You’re a fiscal rocket
I didn’t go to church today, I trust the Lord to understand. The surf was swirling blue and whi… The children swirling on the sand. He knows, He knows how brief my s…
A mighty creature is the germ, Though smaller than a pachyderm. His customary dwelling place Is deep within the human race. His childish pride he often please…
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky; Contrariwise, my blood runs cold When little boys go by. For little boys as little boys,
Bring down the moon for genteel J… She’s too refined for this gross p… She wears garments and you wear cl… You buy stockings, she purchases h… She say That is correct, and you…
There is one thing that ought to b… Which is that people ought to be t… I don’t mean the kind of apologies… Because I think that is sort of s… No, I object to one kind of apolo…
Let’s straighten this out, my litt… And reach an agreement if we can. I entered your door as an honored… My shoes are shined and my trouser… And I won’t stretch out and read…
Peekabo, I Almost See You Middle-aged life is merry, and I… But there comes a day when your ey… And your friends get jocular, so y… And of all your friends he is the…
He tells you when you’ve got on t… And helps you with your girdle wh…
I objurgate the centipede, A bug we do not really need. At sleepy-time he beats a path Straight to the bedroom or the bat… You always wallop where he’s not,
I sit in the dusk. I am all alone… Enter a child and an ice-cream con… A parent is easily beguiled By sight of this coniferous child. The friendly embers warmer gleam,
There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, “Let me out!” That solitary prisoner
Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too… Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know,
