Of all Gods Death alone Disdaineth sacrifice: No man hath found or shown The gift that Death would prize. In vain are songs or sighs,

HAD cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, No man would be a funker Of whin, or burn, or bunker. There were no need for mashies,

Here I’d come when weariest! Here the breast Of the Windburg’s tufted over Deep with bracken; here his crest Takes the west,

“‘Dead and gone,’—a sorry burden o… Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been

When strawberry pottles are common… Ere elms be black, or limes be ser… When midnight dances are murdering… Then comes in the sweet o’ the yea… And far from Fleet Street, far fr…

She has just “put her gown on” at… She is learned in Latin and Greek… But lawn tennis she plays with a s… That the prudish remark with a shr… In her accents, perhaps, she is we…

Hither, come hither, ye Clouds re… Come, though ye dwell on the sacre… Or whether ye dance with the Nere… Or whether your golden urns are di… Or whether you dwell by Mæotis me…

In torrid heats of late July, In March, beneath the bitter bise… He book-hunts while the loungers f… He book-hunts, though December fr… In breeches baggy at the knees,

“And now am I greatly repenting t… ’Tis thought Odysseus when the st… With all the waves and wars, a wea… Grew restless in his disenchanted… And still would watch the sunset,…

In the Morning of Time, when his… How bleak, how un-Greek, was the… From his wigwam, if ever he ventur… There was nobody waiting to welcom… For the Man had been made, but th…

The burden of hard hitting: slog a… Here shalt thou make a “five” and… And then upon thy bat shalt lean,… That thou art in for an uncommon s… Yea, the loud ring applauding thee…

The sacred keep of Ilion is rent By shaft and pit; foiled waters wa… Through plains where Simois and S… To war with Gods and heroes long… Not yet to tired Cassandra, lying…

I would my days had been in other… A moment in the long unnumbered ye… That knew the sway of Horus and o… In peaceful lands that border on t… I would my days had been in other…

Four-and-twenty bonny boys Were playing at the ba, And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh… And he playd o’er them a’. He kickd the ba with his right foo…

Homer, thy song men liken to the s… With all the notes of music in its… With tides that wash the dim domin… Of Hades, and light waves that la… Around the isles enchanted; nay, t…