Oh happy he who cannot see With scientific eyes; Who does not know how flowers grow… And is not planet wise; Content to find with simple mind

I wish I had a simple style In writing verse, As in his prose had Ernie Pyle, So true and terse; Springing so forthright from the h…

Playboy I greet the challenge of the dawn With weary, bleary eyes; Into the sky so ashen wan I wait the sun to rise;

“If you repent,” the Parson said,… Your sins will be forgiven. Aye, even on your dying bed You’re not too late for heaven." That’s just my cup of tea, I thou…

Give me your hand, oh little one! Like children be we two; Yet I am old, my day is done That barely breaks for you. A baby—basket hard you hold,

I have done with love and lust, I reck not for gold or fame; I await familiar dust These frail fingers to reclaim: Not for me the tiger flame.

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;

I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the hou… A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife

This is the law of the Yukon, and… “Send not your foolish and feeble;… Strong for the red rage of battle;… Send me men girt for the combat, m… Swift as the panther in triumph, f…

There where the mighty mountains b… There where the sullen sun-dogs gl… And the glacier-glutted streams sw… There where the livid tundras keep… There where the silences are spawn…

When you have sailed the seven sea… And looped the ends of earth, You’ll long at last for slippered… Beside a bonny hearth; A cosy cottage in the sun,

“But it isn’t playing the game,” h… And he slammed his books away; “The Latin and Greek I’ve got in… Will do for a duller day.” “Rubbish!” I cried; “The bugle’s…

When I am dead I will not care Forever more, If sky be radiantly fair Or tempest roar. If my life—hoard in sin be spent,

I ran a nail into my hand, The wound was hard to heal; So bitter was the pain to stand I thought how it would feel, To have spikes thrust through hand…

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…