#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Zut! it’s two o’clock. See! the lights are jumping. Finish up your bock, Time we all were humping. Waiters stack the chairs,
Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great
When from my fumbling hand the tir… And in the twilight weary droops m… While to my quiet heart a still vo… Calls me to join my kindred of the… Grant that I may, O Lord, ere re…
Familiarity some claim Can breed contempt, So from it let it be your aim To be exempt. Let no one exercise his brawn
A bunch of the boys were whooping… The kid that handles the music—box… Back of the bar, in a solo game, s… And watching his luck was his ligh… When out of the night, which was f…
They say she speeded wanton wild When she was warm with wine; And so she killed a little child, (Could have been yours or mine). The Judge’s verdict was not mild,
My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple tree; His melodies the summer long
If we could roll back History A century, let’s say, And start from there, I’m sure th… Would find things as to—day: In all creation’s cosmic range
Worms finer for fishing you couldn… I delved them dismayed from the ve… The rich loam upturning I gathere… big, fat, gleamy earthworms, all r… Thinks I, without waiting, my hoo…
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…
My job is done; my rhymes are rank… My word-battalions marching verse… Here stanza-companies are none too… There print-platoons are weak, but… And as in marshalled order I revi…
I sing no idle songs of dalliance… No dreams Elysian inspire my rhym… I have no Celia to enchant my lay… No pipes of Pan have set my heart… I am no wordsmith dripping gems di…
Pedlar’s coming down the street, Housewives beat a swift retreat. Don’t you answer to the bell; Heedless what she has to sell. Just discreetly go inside.
Fat lady, in your four—wheeled cha… Dolled up to beat the band, At me you arrogantly stare With gold lorgnette in hand. Oh how you differ from the dame
On silver sand where ripples curle… I counted sea—gulls seven; Shy, secret screened from all the… And innocent as heaven. They did not of my nearness know,