#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
Missis Moriarty called last week,… “Sure the heart of me’s broken ent… You’ve still got your Dinnis to c… Lyin’ alone, cold as a stone, kilt… Oh, I’m seein’ him now as I looke…
In the dark and damp of the alley… Lay the Christmas tree that hadn’… By a shopman dourly thrown outside… With the ruck and rubble of Chris… Trodden deep in the muck and mire,
So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity. All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher’s l…
Like prim Professor of a College I primed my shelves with books of… And now I stand before them dumb, Just like a child that sucks its t… And stares forlorn and turns away,
Your children grow from you apart, Afar and still afar; And yet it should rejoice your hea… To see how glad they are; In school and sport, in work and p…
Now wouldn’t you expect to find a… That’s staked out nigh three hundr… That’s followed every fool stamped… Of camps where men got gold in chu… That’s prospected a bit of ground…
So now I take a bitter road Whereon no bourne I see, And wearily I lift the load That once I bore with glee. For me no more by sea or shore
The red—roofed house of dream desi… Looks three ways on the sea; For fifty years I’ve made it mine… And held it part of me. The pines I planted in my youth
Selecting in the dining—room The silver of his choice, The burglar heard from chamber glo… A female voice. As cold and bitter as a toad,
Since four decades you’ve been to… Both Guide and Friend, I fondly hope you’ll always be, Right to the end; And though my rhymes you rarely sc…
Could Fate ordain a lot for me Beyond all human ills, I think that I would choose to be A shephard of the hills; With shaggy cloak and cape where s…
I drink my fill of foamy ale I sing a song, I tell a tale, I play the fiddle; My throat is chronically dry, Yet savant of a sort am I,
The Dreamer visioned Life as it m… And from his dream forthright a pi… A painting all the people thronged… And joyed therein—till came the M… Saying: “'Tis bad! Why do ye gape…
I’d rather be the Jester than the… I’d rather jangle cap and bells th… I’d rather make his royal ribs wit… Than see him sitting in the suds a… I’d rather be the Court buffoon t…
‘A man should write to please hims… He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day,