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…
I will not fight: though proud of… I hold no one worth striving with; And should resentment burn my brea… I deem that silence serves me best… So having not a word to say,
A-sitttin’ on a cracker box an’ sp… I took a sudden notion that I’d k… An’ so I bought a ticket, jest as… From Pumpkinville in Idaho to Ro… An’ found myself in seven days of…
Out of the wood my White Knight c… His eyes were bright with a bitter… As I clung to his stirrup leather… For I was only a dreaming lad, Yet oh, what a wonderful faith I…
Once, when a boy, I killed a cat. I guess it’s just because of that A cat evokes my tenderness, And takes so kindly my caress. For with a rich, resonant purr
Three widows of the Middle West We’re grimly chewing gum; The Lido chef a quail had dressed With garlic and with rum, And they were painfully oppressed
I bought a young and lovely bride, Paying her father gold; Lamblike she rested by my side, As cold as ice is cold. No love in her could I awake,
I grabbed the new Who’s Who to se… My name —but it was not. Said I: “The form they posted me I filled and sent —so what?” I searched the essies," dour with…
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.)
Why need we newer arms invent, Poor peoples to destroy? With what we have let’s be content And perfect their employ. With weapons that may millions kil…
Great Grandfather was ninety—nine And so it was our one dread, That though his health was superfi… He’d fail to make the hundred. Though he was not a rolling stone
Oh, weren’t they the fine boys! Y… Singing all together with their th… Fighting—fit and mirth—mad, music… Swinging on to glory and the wrath… Laughing by and chaffing by, froli…
I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty—ain’t I… I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I… I’m feelin’ so excited—like, I wa… For I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty in… I’m goin’ 'ome to Blighty: can yo…
The Shorter Catechism I burned my fingers on the stove And wept with bitterness; But poor old Auntie Maggie strove To comfort my distress.
We couldn’t sit and study for the… The stagnation of a bank we couldn… For our riot blood was surging, an… To excitements and excesses that a… So we took to wine and drink and o…