#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1912 #Americans #RhymesOfARollingStone
She’d bring to me a skein of wool And beg me to hold out my hands; so on my pipe I cease to pull And watch her twine the shining st… Into a ball so snug and neat,
Ho! we were strong, we were swift,… Youth was a challenge, and Life w… All that was best in us gladly we… Sprang from the rally, and leapt f… Smiling is Love in a foam of Spri…
I know a mountain thrilling to the… Peerless and pure, and pinnacled w… Glimpsing the golden dawn o’er cor… Flaunting the vanisht sunset’s gar… Proudly patrician, passionless, se…
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…
Oh I am neither rich nor poor, No worker I dispoil; Yet I am glad to be secure From servitude and toil. For with my lifelong savings I
If on water and sweet bread Seven years I’ll add to life, For me will no blood be shed, No lamb know the evil knife; Excellently will I dine
When Jack took Nell into his arms He knew he acted ill, And thought as he enjoyed her char… Of his fiancée Jill. “Poor dear,” he sighed, “she dream…
Wars have been and wars will be Till the human race is run; Battles red by land and sea, Never peace beneath the sun. I am old and little care;
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…
As you gaze beyond the bay With such wanness in your eyes, You who have out—stayed your day, Seeing other stars arise, Slender though your lifehold be,
“Where is your little boy to—day?” I asked her at the gate. “I used to see him at his play, And often I would wait: He was so beautiful, so bright,
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lordly mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fat… The lonely sunsets flame and die;
Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his fo… But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze.
I’ll wait until my money’s gone Before I take the sleeping pills; Then when they find me in the dawn… Remote from earthly ails and ills They’ll say: “She’s broke, the fo…
It’s mighty lonesome—like and drea… Above the Wild the moon rides hig… And shows up sharp and needle—clea… The emptiness of earth and sky; No happy homes with love a—glow;