#1918 #EnglishWriters #OverHere
There is too much of sighing, and… Of pitiful tales of despair. There is too much of wailing and g… And too much of railing at care. There is far too much glorificatio…
SAY, young fellow, just a minute, They 're your first long trousers,… And your little gray knee breeches Are forever put away. And your blouses and your stocking…
Before we take an auto ride Pa sa… Now just remember I don’t need su… If you will just sit still back th… I’ll take you where you want to go… Remember that my hearing’s good an…
‘Tell us a story,’ comes the cry From little lips when nights are c… And in the grate the flames leap h… ‘Tell us a tale of pirates bold, Or fairies hiding in the glen,
A BABY is the best to love, She always smiles when you draw ne… Though ugly you may be of face, No handsomer may interfere And win her heart away from you,
Only a dad, with a tired face, Coming home from the daily race, Bringing little of gold or fame, To show how well he has played the… But glad in his heart that his own…
GIVE me a single day, I ask no m… From dawn to dusk, ah, that is tim… To reach the goal that I am striv… There is no need of further puttin… The little deeds of kindness I ma…
A smudge on his nose and a smear o… And knees that might not have been… A bump on his forehead, a scar on… A relic of many a tumble and trip: A rough little, tough little rasca…
Here she walked and romped about, And here beneath this apple tree Where all the grass is trampled ou… The swing she loved so used to be. This path is but a path to you,
Somebody wants a new bonnet to wea… Somebody wants a new dress; Somebody needs a new bow for her h… And never the wanting grows less. Oh, this is the reason I labor ea…
My Pa he eats his breakfast in a funny sort of way: We hardly ever see him at the first meal of the day. Ma puts his food before him
His name was Kelly Ingram; he was… And he whistled ‘Yankee Doodle,’… There was laughter in his make-up,… And he knew the best traditions an… Now there’s not a heart among us b…
They spoke it bravely, grimly, in… They spoke it when their hope was… We heard it from the dying in thos… And they breathed it as their slog… Now the days of strife are over, a…
Love and laughter lead you Down the pathways of the year, And may each morning feed you From the golden spoon of cheer; May every eye be shining,
I’d like to be the sort of man the flag could boast about; I’d like to be the sort of man it cannot live without; I’d like to be the type of man