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…

One spoke: “Come, let us gaily go With laughter, love and lust, Since in a century or so We’ll all be boneyard dust. When unborn shadows hold the scree…

You see that sheaf of slender book… Upon the topmost shelf, At which no browser ever looks, Because they’re by . . . myself; They’re neatly bound in navy blue,

Maids In May Three maids there were in meadow b… The eldest less then seven; Their eyes were dancing with delig… And innocent as Heaven.

On the tide you ride head high, Like a whale 'mid little fishes; I should envy you as I Help my wife to wash the dishes. Yet frock—coat and stove—pipe hat

Tis hard to hang a husky lad When larks are in the sky; It hurts when daffydills are glad To wring a neck awry, When joy o’ Spring is in the sap

A pote is sure a goofy guy; He ain’t got guts like you or I To tell the score; He ain’t goy gumption 'nuff to kno… The game of life’s to get the doug…

My stretcher is one scarlet stain, And as I tries to scrape it clean… I tell you wot—I’m sick with pain For all I’ve 'eard, for all I’ve… Around me is the 'ellish night,

To Dawson Town came Percy Brown… A pane of glass was in his eye, an… Upon the shoulder of his coat a le… To rest his deadly rifle when it w… The which it must have often been,…

Each New Year’s Eve I used to br… On my misdoings of the past, And vowed: “This year I’ll be so… Well, haply better than the last.” My record of reforms I read

My worldly wealth I hoard in albu… My life collection of rare postage… My room is cold and bare as you ca… My coat is old and shabby as a tra… Yet more to me than balances in ba…

My Boss keeps sporty girls, they… His belly’s big with cheer. He squanders in a single day What I make in a year. For I must toil with bloody sweat…

When I played my penny whistle on… The heather bloomed about us, and… As you bent above your knitting so… And fine and soft and slow the rai… Your cheeks were pink like painted…

I’ve tinkered at my bits of rhymes In weary, woeful, waiting times; In doleful hours of battle—din, Ere yet they brought the wounded i… Through vigils of the fateful nigh…

He sleeps beside me in the bed; Upon my breast I hold his head; Oh how I would that we were wed, For he sails in the morning. I wish I had not been so kind;