Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were with me… Hunger and Thirst and Cold; Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate:

I sing no idle songs of dalliance… No dreams Elysian inspire my rhym… I have no Celia to enchant my lay… No pipes of Pan have set my heart… I am no wordsmith dripping gems di…

And is it not a gesture grand To drink oneself to death? Oh sure 'tis I can understand, Being of sober breath. And so I do not sing success,

The Porch was blazoned with geran… Myrtle and jasmine meadows lit the… With rose and violet the vale’s pe… Languished to where the hyacinthin… Dreamed tenderly . . . “And I mus…

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

They say that rhyme and rhythm are Outmoded now. I do not know, for I am far From high of brow. But if the twain you take away,

Obit 23rd April 1616 Is it not strange that on this com… Two titans of their age, aye of al… Together should renounce this mort… And rise like gods, unsullied and…

Missis Moriarty called last week,… “Sure the heart of me’s broken ent… You’ve still got your Dinnis to c… Lyin’ alone, cold as a stone, kilt… Oh, I’m seein’ him now as I looke…

Now Kelly was no fighter; He loved his pipe and glass; An easygoing blighter, Who lived in Montparnasse. But 'mid the tavern tattle

Miss Don’t—do—this and Don’t—do—t… Has such a sunny smile You cannot help but chuckle at Her cuteness and her guile. Her locks are silken floss of gold…

Rhyme—Smith Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore — It’s only rhyme is astrolabe," Whose meaning I ignore.)

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

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…

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,

Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his fo… But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze.