Although my blood I’ve shed In war’s red wrath, Oh how I darkly dread Its aftermath! Oh how I fear the day

Behold! I’m old; my hair is white… My eighty years are in the offing, And sitting by the fire to—night I sip a grog to ease my coughing. It’s true I’m raucous as a rook,

When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking—chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning—glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass…

Dames should be doomed to dungeons Who masticate raw onions. She was the cuddly kind of Miss A man can love to death; But when I sought to steal a kiss

You’ve heard of Julot the apache,… Montmartre was their hunting—groun… A little chap just like a boy, wit… Yet there was nothing juvenile in… From head to heel as tough as stee…

I never saw a face so bright With brilliant blood and joy, As was the grinning mug last night Of Dick, our local boy, When with a clumsy, lucky clout

Full fifty merry maids I heard One summer morn a—singing; And each was like a joyous bird With spring—clear not a—ringing. It was an old—time soldier song

Ruins in Rome are four a penny, And here along the Appian Way I see the monuments of many Esteemed almighty in their day. .… Or so he makes me understand —

My neighbour has a field of wheat And I a rood of vine; And he will give me bread to eat, And I will give him wine. And so we are a jolly pair,

Oh you who are shy of the popular… (Though most of us seek to survive… Just think of the goldfish who wan… Because she could never be private… There are pebbles and reeds for aq…

Twin boys I bore, my joy, my care… My hope, my life they were to me; Their father, dashing, debonair, Fell fighting at Gallipoli. His daring gallantry, no doubt,

The humble garret where I dwell Is in that Quarter called the Lat… It isn’t spacious —truth to tell, There’s hardly room to swing a cat… But what of that! It’s there I fi…

L’Escargot D’Or O Tavern of the Golden Snail! Ten sous have I, so I’ll regale; Ten sous your amber brew to sip (Eight for the bock and two the ti…

My rhymes are rough, and often in… I’ve drifted, silver—sailed, on se… Hearing afar the bells of Elfland… Seeing the groves of Arcadie agle… I was the thrall of Beauty that r…

My tangoing seemed to delight her; With me it was love at first sight… I mentioned That I was a writer: She asked me: “What is it you wri… “Oh, only best—sellers,” I told h…