#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I don’t know how the fishes feel,… That a gay young flapper of a fema… Yet —that’s exactly what she did a… That’ what evr you do you can’t pu… Now that young tom—cod was a dread…
Franklin fathered bastards fourtee… (So I read in the New Yorker); If it’s true, in terms of courtin’ Benny must have been a corker. To be prudent I’ve aspired,
I hate my neighbour Widow Green; I’d like to claw her face; But if I did she’d make a scene And run me round the place: For widows are in way of spleen
“I’m going, Billy, old fellow. Hi… There’s Boches to beat all creati… I’ve fixed the note to your collar… You’ve got to get back to warn 'em… The order came to go forward to a…
Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great
The leaves are sick and jaundiced,… Drift down the air; December’s sky is sodden grey, Dark with despair; A bleary dawn will light anon
When young I was a Socialist Despite my tender years; No blessed chance I ever missed To slam the profiteers. Yet though a fanatic I was,
With peace and rest And wisdom sage, Ripeness is best Of every age. With hands that fold
‘Twas in a village in Lorraine Whose name I quite forget, I found I needfully was fain To buy a serviette. I sought a shop wherein they sell
I told a truth, a tragic truth That tore the sullen sky; A million shuddered at my sooth And anarchist was I. Red righteousness was in my word
A bunch of the boys were whooping… In the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music—box Was hitting a jag—time tune; Back of the bar, in a solo game,
The Spanish women don’t wear slac… Because their hips are too enormou… 'Tis true each bulbous bosom lacks No inspiration that should warm us… But how our ardor seems to freeze
In a strange town in a far land They met amid a throng; They stared, they could not unders… How life was sudden song. As brown eyes looked in eyes of gr…
When I was boxing in the ring In 'Frisco back in ninety—seven, I used to make five bucks a fling To give as good as I was given. But when I felt too fighting gay,
My folks think I’m a serving maid Each time I visit home; They do not dream I ply a trade As old as Greece or Rome; For if they found I’d fouled thei…