We was in a crump—'ole, 'im and me… Fightin’ wiv our bayonets was we; Fightin’ ‘ard as ’ell we was, Fightin’ fierce as fire because It was ‘im or me as must be downed…

“The aristocratic ne’er—do—well in… into the ranks of the Royal North… Hark to the ewe that bore him: “What has muddied the strain? Never his brothers before him

To visit the Escurial We took a motor bus, And there a guide mercurial Took charge of us. He showed us through room after ro…

Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire, Driving a red—meat bus out there — How did he win his Croix de Guerr… Bless you, that’s all old stuff: Beast of a night on the Verdun ro…

I think the things I own and love Acquire a sense of me, That gives them value far above The worth that others see. My chattels are of me a part:

It hurts my pride that I should b… The issue of a night of lust; Yet even Bishops, you’ll agree, Obey the biologic 'must’; Though no doubt with more dignity

There’s a cry from out the lonelin… Do you hear it, do you fear it, yo… You’re a—sobbing in your sleep, de… Do you hear the Little Voices all… All a—begging me to leave you. Da…

The world is sadly sick, they say, And plagued by woe and pain. But look! How looms my garden gay… With blooms in golden reign! With lyric music in the air,

Oh you who have daring deeds to te… And you who have felt Ambition’s… Have you heard of the louse who lo… In the golden hair of a queen? He sighed all day and he sighed al…

The Porch was blazoned with geran… Myrtle and jasmine meadows lit the… With rose and violet the vale’s pe… Languished to where the hyacinthin… Dreamed tenderly . . . “And I mus…

Through eyelet holes I watched th… Rain of confetti fling; Their joy is lush, their laughter… For Carnival is King. Behind his chariot I pace

All day with brow of anxious thoug… The dictionary through, Amid a million words he sought The sole one that would do. He wandered on from pub to pub

So easy 'tis to make a rhyme, That did the world but know it, Your coachman might Parnassus cli… Your butler be a poet. Then, oh, how charming it would be

His face was like a lobster red, His legs were white as mayonnaise: “I’ve had a jolly lunch,” he said, That Englishman of pleasant ways. “Thy do us well at our hotel:

The Men of Seville are, they say, The laziest of Spain. Consummate artists in delay, Allergical to strain; Fr if you have a job for them,