#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Sky’s a—waxin’ grey, Got to be a—goin’; Gittin’ on my way, Where? I ain’t a—knowin’. Fellers, no more jokes,
As home from church we two did plo… “Grandpa,” said Rosy, “What is G… Seeking an answer to her mind, This is the best that I could fin… God is the Iz—ness of our Cosmic…
I took the clock down from the she… “At eight,” said I, “I shoot myse… It lacked a minute of the hour, And as I waited all a—cower, A skinful of black, boding pain,
Some praise the Lord for Light, The living spark; I thank God for the Night The healing dark. When wearily I lie,
Gas got me in the first World War… And all my mates at rest are laid. I felt I might survive them for I am a gardener by trade. My life is in the open air,
I do not swear because I am A sweet and sober guy; I cannot vent a single damn However hard I try. And in viruperative way,
A hundred people I employed, But when they struck for higher pa… I was so damnably annoyed I told them they could stay away. I simply shut my business down;
As I was saying . . . (No, thank… Cows weren’t allowed in the trench… As I was saying, our Colonel leap… “Come on, lads!” he shouts, “and w… Then some bally thing seemed to tr…
The very skies wee black with sham… As near my moment drew; The very hour before you cam I felt I hated you. But now I see how fair you are,
Give me your hand, oh little one! Like children be we two; Yet I am old, my day is done That barely breaks for you. A baby—basket hard you hold,
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…
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
I loved to toy with tuneful rhyme, My fancies into verse to weave; For as I walked my words would ch… So bell—like I could scarce belie… My rhymes rippled like a brook,
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.)
Just Home and Love! the words are… Four little letters unto each; And yet you will not find in all The wide and gracious range of spe… Two more so tenderly complete: