Strip Teaser My precious grand—child, aged two, Is eager to unlace one shoe, And then the other; Her cotton socks she’ll deftly dof…

I never saw a face so bright With brilliant blood and joy, As was the grinning mug last night Of Dick, our local boy, When with a clumsy, lucky clout

(France, August first, 1914) Far and near, high and clear, Hark to the call of War! Over the gorse and the golden dell… Ringing and swinging of clamorous…

I’d rather be the Jester than the… I’d rather jangle cap and bells th… I’d rather make his royal ribs wit… Than see him sitting in the suds a… I’d rather be the Court buffoon t…

“Sow your wild oats in your youth,… But I say with deeper sooth: “Sow… I’ll be wise till I’m about seven… Then, by Gad! I’ll blossom out as… I’ll assume a dashing air, laugh w…

The Spanish women don’t wear slac… Because their hips are too enormou… 'Tis true each bulbous bosom lacks No inspiration that should warm us… But how our ardor seems to freeze

Bed and bread are all I need In my happy day; Love of Nature is my creed, Unto her I pray; Sun and sky my spirit feed

Now Kelly was no fighter; He loved his pipe and glass; An easygoing blighter, Who lived in Montparnasse. But 'mid the tavern tattle

I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the hou… A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife

O dear little cabin, I’ve loved y… And now I must bid you good—bye! I’ve filled you with laughter, I’… And sometimes I’ve wished I could… Your walls they have witnessed a w…

And is it not a gesture grand To drink oneself to death? Oh sure 'tis I can understand, Being of sober breath. And so I do not sing success,

On the ragged edge of the world I… And the home of the wolf shall be… And a bunch of bones on the boundl… The end of my trail . . . who know… I’m dreaming to—night in the fire—…

Deeming that I were better dead, “How shall I kill myself?” I said… Thus mooning by the river Seine I sought extinction without pain, When on a bridge I saw a flash

The sunshine seeks my little room To tell me Paris streets are gay; That children cry the lily bloom All up and down the leafy way; That half the town is mad with Ma…