Why should I be the first to fall Of all the leaves on this old tree… Though sadly soon I know that all Will lose their hold and follow me… While my birth—brothers bravely bl…

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…

O meadow lark, so wild and free, It cannot be, it cannot be, That men to merchandise your spell Do close you in a wicker hell! O hedgerow thrush so mad with glee…

I had a friend, a breezy friend I liked an awful lot; And in his company no end Of happiness I got. We clicked in temper, taste and mo…

I never thought that Bill could s… A proper prayer; 'Twas more in his hard—bitten way To cuss and swear; Yet came the night when Baby Ted

I sought Him on the purple seas, I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His nam… The wasted ways of earth I trod:

Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great

'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

Let others sing of Empire and of… A song of Little Puddleton is goo… A song of kindly living, and of co… I seldom read the papers, so I do… I go to bed at sunset, and I leap…

There’s a drip of honeysuckle in t… There’s old Martin jogging homewa… There are cherry petals falling, a… And a score of larks (God bless '… For you see I am not really there…

To tribulations of mankind Dame Nature is indifferent; To human sorrow she is blind, And deaf to human discontent. Mid fear and fratricidal fray,

“Where are you going, Young Fello… On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, D… They’re looking for men, they say.… “But you’re only a boy, Young Fel…

Birds have no consciousness of doo… Yon thrush that serenades me daily From scented snow of hawthorn bloo… Would not trill out his glee so ga… Could he foretell his songful brea…

When I was daft (as urchins are), And full if fairy lore, I aimed an arrow at a star And hit —the barnyard door. I’ve shot at heaps of stars since…