“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…

With belly like a poisoned pup Said I: ‘I must give bacon up: And also, I profanely fear, I must abandon bread and beer That make for portliness they say;

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…

There was Claw—fingered Kitty and… When unto them in the Long, Long… Bearing his prize of a black fox p… His cheeks were blanched as the fl… Deep in their dark, sin—calcined p…

We pitied him because He lived alone; His tiny cottage was His only own. His little garden had

I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soo… Someone would praise a bit Its purity and grace forlone,

“I’ll do the old dump in a day,” He told me in his brittle way. “Two more, I guess, I’ll give to… Before I hit the trail for home; But while I’m there I kindo’ hope

The same old sprint in the morning… Chained all day to the same old de… Posting the same old greasy books,… Oh, how will I manage to stick it… We’ve bidden good—bye to life in a…

Jack would laugh an’ joke all day; Never saw a lad so gay; Singin’ like a medder lark, Loaded to the Plimsoll mark With God’s sunshine was that boy;

Ah me! How hard is destiny! If we could only know. . . . I bought my son from Sicily A score of years ago; I haled him from our sunny vale

God dwells in you; in pride and sh… In all you do to blight or bless; In all you are of praise and blame… In beauty or in ugliness. “Divine Creation” —What a fraud!

Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were with me… Hunger and Thirst and Cold; Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate:

Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain

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

I love to watch my seven cows In meads of buttercups abrowse, With guilded knees; But even more I love to see Them chew the cud so tranquilly