I sought Him on the purple seas, I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His nam… The wasted ways of earth I trod:

The lone man gazed and gazed upon… His sweat, his blood, the wage of… But now how sweet, how doubly swee… All gay and gleamy to the campfire… The evening sky was sinister and c…

Upon his way to rob a Bank He paused to watch a fire; Though crowds were pressing rank o… He pushed a passage nigher; Then sudden heard, piercing and wi…

A sea—gull with a broken wing, I found upon the kelp—strewn shore… It sprawled and gasped; I sighed:… I fear your flying days are o’er; Sad victim of a savage gun,

When the long, long day is over, a… I hope that it won’t be hell—fire,… And I hope that it won’t be heave… All I want is just quiet, just to… Look at my face, toil—furrowed; lo…

Some deem I’m gentle, some I’m ki… It may be so,—I cannot say. I know I have a simple mind And see things in a simple way; And like a child I love to play.

He’s the man from Eldorado, and h… In moccasins and oily buckskin shi… He’s gaunt as any Indian, and pre… He’s greasy, and he smells of swea… He sports a crop of whiskers that…

Franklin fathered bastards fourtee… (So I read in the New Yorker); If it’s true, in terms of courtin’ Benny must have been a corker. To be prudent I’ve aspired,

When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking—chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning—glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass…

A gaunt and hoary slab of stone I found in desert place, And wondered why it lay alone In that abandoned place. Said I: ‘Maybe a Palace stood

My brother Tim has children ten, While I have none. Maybe that’s why he’s toiling when To ease I’ve won. But though I would some of his br…

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

The porter in the Pullman car Was charming, as they sometimes ar… He scanned my baggage tags: “Are… The man who wrote of Lady Lou?” When I said “yes” he made a fuss…

'Twas on an iron, icy day I saw a pirate gull down—plane, And hover in a wistful way Nigh where my chickens picked thei… An outcast gull, so grey and old,

Black ants have made a musty mound My purple pine tree under, And I am often to be found, Regarding it with wonder. Yet as I watch, somehow it;s odd,