Flat as a drum—head stretch the ha… The mighty skies are palisades of… The stars are blurred; the silence… Vaster and vaster vaults the icy n… Here in my sleeping—bag I cower a…

“Sow your wild oats in your youth,… But I say with deeper sooth: “Sow… I’ll be wise till I’m about seven… Then, by Gad! I’ll blossom out as… I’ll assume a dashing air, laugh w…

The red—roofed house of dream desi… Looks three ways on the sea; For fifty years I’ve made it mine… And held it part of me. The pines I planted in my youth

I like to think that when I fall, A rain—drop in Death’s shoreless… This shelf of books along the wall… Beside my bed, will mourn for me. Regard it. . . . Aye, my taste is…

I sat her in her baby chair, And set upon its tray Her kewpie doll and teddy bear, But no, she would not play. Although they looked so wistfully

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.)

Let us be thankful, Lord, for lit… The song of birds, the rapture of… Cloud—dappled skies, the laugh of… Drowned sunbeams and the perfume… Bronze wheat a—shimmer, purple sha…

I’m just an ordinary chap Who comes home to his tea, And mostly I don’t care a rap What people think of me; I do my job and take my pay,

From off my calendar today A leaf I tear; So swiftly passes smiling May Without a care. And now the gentleness of June

I keep collecting books I know I’ll never, never read; My wife and daughter tell me so, And yet I never head. “Please make me,” says some wistfu…

“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…

The Porch was blazoned with geran… Myrtle and jasmine meadows lit the… With rose and violet the vale’s pe… Languished to where the hyacinthin… Dreamed tenderly . . . “And I mus…

The chapel looms against the sky, Above the vine—clad shelves, And as the peasants pass it by They cross themselves. But I alone, I grieve to state,

(With apologies to the singer of t… I’m a homely little bit of tin and… I’m beloved by the Legion of the… I haven’t got a “vox humana” tone, And a dime or two will satisfy my…

In youth I longed to paint The loveliness I saw; And yet by dire constraint I had to study Law. But now all that is past,