Aye, Montecelli, that’s the name. You may have heard of him perhaps. Yet though he never savoured fame, Of those impressionistic chaps, Monet and Manet and Renoir

He sleeps beside me in the bed; Upon my breast I hold his head; Oh how I would that we were wed, For he sails in the morning. I wish I had not been so kind;

A pencil, sir; a penny —won’t you… I’m cold and wet and tired, a sorr… Don’t turn your back, sir; take on… I haven’t made a single sale to—ni… Oh, thank you, sir; but take the p…

He wrote a letter in his mind To answer one a maid had sent; He sought the fitting word to find… As on by hill and rill he went. By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane…

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…

The Junior God looked from his pl… In the conning towers of heaven, And he saw the world through the s… Like a giant golf—ball driven. And because he was bored, as some…

Out of the night a crash, A roar, a rampart of light; A flame that leaped like a lash, Searing forever my sight; Out of the night a flash,

I think I’ll buy a little field, Though scant am I of pelf, And hold the hope that it may yiel… A living for myself; For I have toiled ten thousand da…

Of course you’ve heard of the Nan… On her famous quest of the Arctic… For it was a foreign Prince’s whi… And a golden quid was no more to h… So we sailed away and our hearts w…

The Countess sprawled beside the… As naked a she well could be; Indeed her only garments were A “G” string and a brassière Her washerwoman was amazed,

Moko, the Educated Ape is here, The pet of vaudeville, so the post… And every night the gaping people… To see him in his panoply appear; To see him pad his paunch with dai…

His portrait hung upon the wall. Oh how at us he used to stare. Each Sunday when I made my call!… And when one day it wasn’t there, Quite quick I seemed to understan…

To Dawson Town came Percy Brown… A pane of glass was in his eye, an… Upon the shoulder of his coat a le… To rest his deadly rifle when it w… The which it must have often been,…

It’s cruel cold on the water—front… Only the black tide weltering, onl… And I, alone, like a storm—tossed… Shuffling along in the icy wind, g… They’re playing a tune in McGuffy…

My destiny it is tonight To sit with pensive brow Beside my study fire and write This verse I’m making now. This Period, this tiny dot