His portrait hung upon the wall. Oh how at us he used to stare. Each Sunday when I made my call!… And when one day it wasn’t there, Quite quick I seemed to understan…

Folk ask if I’m alive, Most think I’m not; Yet gaily I contrive To till my plot. The world its way can go,

Tell me, Tramp, where I may go To be free from human woe; Say where I may hope to find Ease of heart and peace of mind; Is thee not some isle you know

Since four decades you’ve been to… Both Guide and Friend, I fondly hope you’ll always be, Right to the end; And though my rhymes you rarely sc…

Where are the dames I used to kno… In Dawson in the days of yore? Alas, it’s fifty years ago, And most, I guess, have “gone bef… The swinging scythe is swift to mo…

I pawned my sick wife’s wedding ri… To drink and make myself a beast. I got the most that it would bring… Of golden coins the very least. With stealth into her room I crep…

‘Ave you seen Bill’s mug in the N… ‘E’s gyned the Victoriar Cross, t… Little Bill wot would grizzle and… If you ‘it ’im a swipe on the jawr… ‘E’s slaughtered the Kaiser’s men…

The mule—skinner was Bill Jerome,… Two tinhorns from the dives of No… And as for sunny Southland bound,… The solitude that ringed them roun… Then when the trail crooked crazil…

There’s a four—pronged buck a—swin… And it roamed the velvet valley ti… But I tracked it by the river, an… And I killed it on the mountain m… Now I’ve had my lazy supper, and…

Because I have ten thousand pound… And leave my living tranquilly for… For in some procreative way that i… Ten thousand pounds will breed, th… So as I have a healthy hate of ec…

Let others sing of Empire and of… A song of Little Puddleton is goo… A song of kindly living, and of co… I seldom read the papers, so I do… I go to bed at sunset, and I leap…

When the boys come out from Lac L… To take the pay of the “Hudson’s… They are all a—glee for the jambor… With a whoop and a whirl, and a “… For the spree of Spring is a sacr…

That Barret, the painter of pictu… And Fanning, the maker of music,… And Harley, the writer of stories… To hark to their talk in the trenc… Of the day when the war would be o…

Visibility Because my eyes were none to brigh… Strong spectacles I bought, And lo! there sprang into my sight A life beyond my thought: