Let not our town be large, remembe… That little Athens was the Muses’… That Oxford rules the heart of Lo… That Florence gave the Renaissanc… Record it for the grandson of your…

“If I could set the moon upon This table,” said my friend, “Among the standard poets And brouchures without end, And noble prints of old Japan,

I saw Lord Buddha towering by my… Saying: “Once more, good youth, I… Saying: “I bring you my fair Law… And from your withering passion fu… Release from that white hand that…

The flower-fed buffaloes of the sp… In the days of long ago, Ranged where the locomotives sing And the prarie flowers lie low: The tossing, blooming, perfumed gr…

The Jazz-bird sings a barnyard so… A cock-a-doodle bray, A jingle-bells, a boiler works, A he-man’s roundelay. The eagle said, ‘My noisy son,

Two old crows sat on a fence rail. Two old crows sat on a fence rail, Thinking of effect and cause, Of weeds and flowers, And nature’s laws.

Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing,

The angels guide him now, And watch his curly head, And lead him in their games, The little boy we led. He cannot come to harm,

Factory windows are always broken. Somebody’s always throwing bricks, Somebody’s always heaving cinders, Playing ugly Yahoo tricks. Factory windows are always broken.

To be intoned, all but the two… Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. Here lies a kitten good, who kept A kitten’s proper place. He stole no pantry eatables,

Though I have watched so many mou… O’er the real dead, in dull earth… Those dead seemed but the shadows… That passed and left me in the sun… Now though you go on smiling in th…

Tolstoi is plowing yet. When the… High in the sky shines a field as… There he toils for the Kingdom of… Ah, he is taller than clouds of th… Only the congress of planets is ov…

O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie… Whose sidewalks are but stones of… Who weep that Liberty must die, Turn to the little prairie towns,

The Hope of the Resurrection Though I have watched so many mou… O’er the real dead, in dull earth… Those dead seemed but the shadows… That passed and left me in the sun…