“Tell Annie I’ll be home in time To help her with her Christmas—tr… That’s what he wrote, and hark! th… Of Christmas bells, and where is… And how the house is dark and sad,

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

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…

Alas! I am only a rhymer, I don’t know the meaning of Art; But I learned in my little school… To love Eugene Field and Bret Ha… I hailed Hoosier Ryley with pleas…

'A ticket for the lottery I’ve purchased every week,' said s… 'For years a score Though desperately poor am I, Oh how I’ve scrimped and scraped…

Toil’s a tunnel, there’s no way ou… For fellows, the like o’ me; A beggar wi’ only a crust an’ a cl… At the worst o’ the worst is free; but I work to eat, an’ I eat to w…

It’s mighty nice at shut of day With weariness to hit the hey, To close your eyes, tired through… And just forget that “you are you.… It’s mighty sweet to wake again

Marie Antoinette They told to Marie Antoinette: “The beggers at your gate Have eyes too sad for tears to wet… And for your pity wait.”

A fat man sat in an orchestra stal… As he gazed at the primadonna tall… “Oh don’t you remember” he murmure… When hand in hand we used to go to… Ah me those days so gay and glad,…

I call myself a Tranquilist; With deep detachment I exist, From friction free; While others court the gilded thro… And worship Women, Wine and Song…

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:

Now wouldn’t you expect to find a… That’s staked out nigh three hundr… That’s followed every fool stamped… Of camps where men got gold in chu… That’s prospected a bit of ground…

My first I wed when just sixteen And he was sixty—five. He treated me like any queen The years he was alive. Oh I betrayed him on the sly,

Since I have come to years sedate I see with more and more acumen The bitter irony of Fate, The vanity of all things human. Why, just to—day some fellow said,

It’s not for laws I’ve broken That bitter tears I’ve wept, But solemn vows I’ve spoken And promises unkept; It’s not for sins committed