What guts he had, the Dago lad Who fought that Frenchman grim wi… For nigh an hour they milled like… And mauled the mat in rare old sty… Then up and launched like catapult…
Lolling on a bank of thyme Drunk with Spring I made this rhy… Though peoples perish in defeat, And races suffer to survive, The sunshine never was so sweet,
Be honest, kindly, simple, true; Seek good in all, scorn but preten… Whatever sorrow come to you, Believe in Life’s Beneficence! The World’s all right; serene I s…
A hundred years is a lot of living I’ve often thought. and I’ll know… Some day if the gods are good in g… And grant me to turn the century. Yet in all my eighty years of bein…
Let us have birthdays every day, (I had the thought while I was sh… Because a birthday should be gay, And full of grace and good behavin… We can’t have cakes and candles br…
We’d left the sea—gulls long behin… And we were almost in mid—ocean; The sky was soft and blue and kind… The boat had scarcely any motion; Except that songfully it sped,
Said Jones: “I’m glad my wife’s n… Her intellect is second—rate. If she was witty she would never Give me a chance to scintillate; But cap my humorous endeavour
Familiarity some claim Can breed contempt, So from it let it be your aim To be exempt. Let no one exercise his brawn
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…
When the boys come out from Lac L… To take the pay of the “Hudson’s… They are all a—glee for the jambor… With a whoop and a whirl, and a “… For the spree of Spring is a sacr…
My boy’s come back; he’s here at l… He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache are past, My only son is back again. He’s home with music, flags and fl…
In the wilds of Madagascar, Dwelt… For her hand young men would ask h… Oh that Boola—boola maid She was… And —when the day was done At the… As this ditty she was cooing, Cam…
“Give me my daily bread. It seems so odd, When all is done and said, This plea to God. To pray for cake might be
Said darling daughter unto me: “oh Dad, how funny it would be If you had gone to Mexico A score or so of years ago. Had not some whimsey changed your…
Singing larks I saw for sale — (Ah! the pain of it) Plucked and ready to impale On a roasting spit; Happy larks that summer—long