Horace: Book II, Elegy 2 “Liber eram et vacuo meditabar viv… I was free. I thought that I had… Love’s Antarctic Zone. “A truce to sentiment,” I said. “…

How do you tackle your work each d… Are you scared of the job you find… Do you grapple the task that comes… With a confident, easy mind? Do you stand right up to the work…

Lady when I left you Ere I sailed the sea, Bitterly bereft you Told me you would be. Frequently and often

("Sir: For the first time in twenty-three years 'Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations’ has been revised and enlarged, and under a separate cover we are sending you a copy of the new edition. ...

[I was talking with a newspaper man the other day who seemed to think that the fact that Mrs. Carlyle threw a teacup at Mr. Carlyle should be given to the public merely as a fact. But a...

Sing, O Muse, in treble clef, A little song of the A.E.F., And pardon me, please, if I give… To something akin to sentiment. But we have our moments Over Here

Curly locks, Curly Locks, wilt th… Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor ye… But stand in the kitchen and cook… And ride every night in an automob… Curly Locks, Curly Locks, come t…

William, it was, I think, three y… As I recall, one cool October mor… (You have The Tribune files; I t… I gave you warning). I said, in well-selected words and…

WHEN Bill was a lad he was terri… He worried his parents a lot; He’d lie and he’d swear and pull l… His boyhood was naught but a blot. At play and in school he would fra…

("Humourists have amused themselves by translating famous sonnets into free verse. A result no less ridiculous would have been obtained if somebody had re-written a passage from 'Paradi...

INSPIRED BY READING M… PRINTED IN THE NEW YOR… Though earnest and industrious, I still am unillustrious; No papers empty purses

I remember, I remember The house where I was born; The rent was thirty-two a month, Which made my father mourn. He said he could remember when

Propertius: Elegy VIII, Part 1 “Tune igitur demens nec te mea cur… O Cynthia, hast thou lost thy min… Have I no claim on thine affectio… Dost love the chill Illyrian wind

Many a jest that refuses to die Bobs up again as the seasons appea… Deathless it hits us again in the… Changeless and dull as the calenda… Musty and mouldy and yellow and se…