The sunshine seeks my little room To tell me Paris streets are gay; That children cry the lily bloom All up and down the leafy way; That half the town is mad with Ma…
Something’s wrong in Pigeon—land; 'Tisn’t as it used to be, When the pilgrim, corn in hand, Courted us with laughing glee; When we crooned with pinions furle…
I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty—ain’t I… I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I… I’m feelin’ so excited—like, I wa… For I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty in… I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty: can yo…
In Pat Mahoney’s booze bazaar the… And Ragtime Billy spanked the bab… While caroling a saucy song was M… With sozzled sourdoughs giving her… When suddenly erupting in the gay…
Full well I trow that when I die Down drops the curtain; Another show is all my eye And Betty Martin. I know the score, and with a smile
No man can be a failure if he thin… he may not own his roof—tree overh… He may be on his uppers and have h… (Financially speaking —in the red) He may have chronic shortage to re…
We’d left the sea—gulls long behin… And we were almost in mid—ocean; The sky was soft and blue and kind… The boat had scarcely any motion; Except that songfully it sped,
Because I was a woman lone And had of friends so few, I made two little ones my own, Whose parents no one knew; Unwanted foundlings of the night,
Dusting my books I spent a busy d… Not ancient toes, time—hallowed an… but modern volumes, classics in th… whose makers now are numbered with… Men of a generation more than mine…
I don’t think men of eighty odd Should let a surgeon operate; Better to pray for peace with God… And reconcile oneself to Fate: At four—score years we really shou…
My flask of wine was ruby red And swift I ran my sweet to see; With eyes that snapped delight I… “How mad with love a lad can be!” The moon was laughing overhead;
Tick—tocking in my ear My dollar clock I hear. ‘Arise,’ it seems to say: ‘Behold another day To grasp the golden key
A child saw in the morning skies The dissipated—looking moon, And opened wide her big blue eyes, And cried: “Look, look, my lost b… And clapped her rosy hands with gl…
A bonny bird I found today Mired in a melt of tar; Its silky breast was silver—grey, Its wings were cinnabar. So still it lay right in the way
When from my fumbling hand the tir… And in the twilight weary droops m… While to my quiet heart a still vo… Calls me to join my kindred of the… Grant that I may, O Lord, ere re…