The English and the French were m… Upon the field of future battle; The foes were formidably set And waiting for the guns to rattle… When from the serried ranks of Fr…

My stretcher is one scarlet stain, And as I tries to scrape it clean… I tell you wot—I’m sick with pain For all I’ve 'eard, for all I’ve… Around me is the 'ellish night,

I know how father’s strap would fe… If ever I were caught, So mother’s jam I did not steal, Though theft was in my thought. Then turned fourteen and full of p…

'God’ is composed of letters three… But if you put an 'l’ Before the last it seems to me A synonym for Hell. For all of envy, greed and hate

In the wilds of Madagascar, Dwelt… For her hand young men would ask h… Oh that Boola—boola maid She was… And —when the day was done At the… As this ditty she was cooing, Cam…

The leaves are sick and jaundiced,… Drift down the air; December’s sky is sodden grey, Dark with despair; A bleary dawn will light anon

Like prim Professor of a College I primed my shelves with books of… And now I stand before them dumb, Just like a child that sucks its t… And stares forlorn and turns away,

Lolling on a bank of thyme Drunk with Spring I made this rhy… Though peoples perish in defeat, And races suffer to survive, The sunshine never was so sweet,

You’ve heard of Belching Billy, l… As punk a chunk of Yukon scum as… A satellite of Soapy Smith, a cap… A slimy tribute—taker from the La… But say, you never heard of how he…

The Spirit of the Unborn Babe pe… Peered through the window—pane tha… For, oh, the sky was desolate and… And how the little room was cramme… Except the flirting of the fire th…

What was the blackest sight to me Of all that campaign? A naked woman tied to a tree With jagged holes where her breast… Rotting there in the rain.

What would I choose to see when I To this bright earth shall bid goo… When fades forever from my sight The world I’ve loved with long de… What would I pray to look on last…

And so when he reached my bed The General made a stand: “My brave young fellow,” he said, “I would shake your hand.” So I lifted my arm, the right,

Oh how I love the laughing sea, Sun lances splintering; Or with a virile harmony In salty caves to sing; Or mumbling pebbles on the shore,

Up into the sky I stare; All the little stars I see; And I know that God is there O, how lonely He must be! Me, I laugh and leap all day,