#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
Oh happy he who cannot see With scientific eyes; Who does not know how flowers grow… And is not planet wise; Content to find with simple mind
I look into the aching womb of nig… I look across the mist that masks… The moon is tired and gives but li… The stars have gone to bed. The earth is sick and seems to bre…
“Where is your little boy to—day?” I asked her at the gate. “I used to see him at his play, And often I would wait: He was so beautiful, so bright,
Three men I saw beside a bar, Regarding o’er their bottle, A frog who smoked a rank cigar They’d jammed within its throttle. A Pasha frog it must have been
Could Fate ordain a lot for me Beyond all human ills, I think that I would choose to be A shephard of the hills; With shaggy cloak and cape where s…
Some deem I’m gentle, some I’m ki… It may be so,—I cannot say. I know I have a simple mind And see things in a simple way; And like a child I love to play.
Three score and ten, the psalmist… And half my course is well—nigh ru… I’ve had my flout at dusty death, I’ve had my whack of feast and fun… I’ve mocked at those who prate and…
A pote is sure a goofy guy; He ain’t got guts like you or I To tell the score; He ain’t goy gumption 'nuff to kno… The game of life’s to get the doug…
Addict of Punch and Judy shows I was when I was small; My kiddy laughter, I suppose, Rang louder than them all. The Judge with banter I would bai…
Have ever you heard of the Land o… That dreams at the gates of the da… Alluring it lies at the skirts of… And ever so far away; Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke…
From out her shabby rain—coat pock… The little Jew girl in the train Produced a dinted silver locket With pasted in it portraits twain. “These are my parents, sir” she sa…
Since I have come to years sedate I see with more and more acumen The bitter irony of Fate, The vanity of all things human. Why, just to—day some fellow said,
In the moonless, misty night, with… I am sitting by the camp—fire’s fa… Oh, the dew is falling chill on th… And the breakers in the bay are mo… The toilful hours are sped, the bo…
Where are the dames I used to kno… In Dawson in the days of yore? Alas, it’s fifty years ago, And most, I guess, have “gone bef… The swinging scythe is swift to mo…