On this festive first of May, Wending wistfully my way Three sad sights I saw today. The first was such a lovely lad He lit with grace the sordid stree…

My Pa and Ma their honeymoon Passed in an Andulasian June, And though produced in Drury Lane… I must have been conceived in Spa… Now having lapsed from fair estate…

Dames should be doomed to dungeons Who masticate raw onions. She was the cuddly kind of Miss A man can love to death; But when I sought to steal a kiss

The aged Queen who passed away Had sixty servants, so they say; Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie… Two soapy ones have I. The old Queen had of beds a score…

When your marrer bone seems 'oller… And you’re glad you ain’t no talle… And you’re all a—shakin’ like you… When your skin creeps like a pulle… And you’re duckin’ all the bullets…

A father’s pride I used to know, A mother’s love was mine; For swinish husks I let them go, And bedded with the swine. Since then I’ve come on evil days

Son put a poser up to me That made me scratch my head: “God made the whole wide world,” q… “That’s right, my boy,” I said. Said son: “He mad the mountains s…

I’m part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have… In other minds I see. There’s something of me in the thr…

I look into the aching womb of nig… I look across the mist that masks… The moon is tired and gives but li… The stars have gone to bed. The earth is sick and seems to bre…

Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gles… “That’s whit I hate maist aboot f… Noo jist hae a keek at yon ferm—ho… Weel, think o’ it, doon in the dun… A’ hell’s fairly belchin’ oot yonn…

Behold! I’m old; my hair is white… My eighty years are in the offing, And sitting by the fire to—night I sip a grog to ease my coughing. It’s true I’m raucous as a rook,

My poem may be yours indeed In melody and tone, If in its rhythm you can read A music of your own; If in its pale woof you can weave

Time, the Jester, jeers at you; Your life’s a fleeting breath; Your birthday’s flimsy I.O.U. To that old devil, Death. And though to glory you attain,

Today I opened wide my eyes, And stared with wonder and surpris… To see beneath November skies An apple blossom peer; Upon a branch as bleak as night

Because I’ve eighty years and odd… And darkling is my day, I now prepare to meet my God, And for forgiveness pray. Not for salvation is my plea,