A soft susurrus in the night, A song whose singer is unseen– ’Twere poetry itself to write ‘A soft susurrus in the night!’ I know, as those mosquitos bite,

I saw him lying cold and dead Who yesterday was whole. “Why,” I inquired, “hath he expir… And why hath fled his soul? ”but yesterday," his comrade said,

Well William, since I wrote you l… As I recall, one cool October mor… (I have The Tribune files. They… I gave you warning). Since when I penned that conseque…

(There is said to be a steady dema… in England. There are readers who… sedative for tired nerves; there a… Trollope’s quiet humour. Some peo… James’s tangled syntax the restful…

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…

("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...

Horace: Book IV, Ode 11 “Est mihi nonum superantis annum—” Phyllis, I’ve a jar of wine, (Alban, B.C. 49) Parsley wreathes, and, for your tr…

Horace: Book II, Elegy 8 “Eripitur nobis iam pridem cara pu… While she I loved is being torn From arms that held her many years… Dost thou regard me, friend, with…

I rise and applaud, in the patriot… Whenever (as often) I hear The palpitanat strains of “The St… I shout and cheer. And also, to show my unbound devot…

AFTER HENLEY Where are the wheezes they essayed And where the smiles they made to… Where’s Caron’s seltzer siphon la… A squirt from which laid Herbert…

Lady in the blue kimono, you that… One may see you gazing, gazing gaz… Idly looking out your window from… Are you convalescent, lady? Are y… Ever gazing, as you hang there on…

When the Festal Board, as the pap… Groans 'neath the weight of a lot… At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeun… (As a bard tri-lingual I’m rather… At breakfast, then, if I may repe…

There was a man in our town, and h… was wondrous rich; He gave away his millions to the c… and sich; And people cried: “The hypocrite!…

LINES PROVOKED BY HE… No carmine radical in Art, I worship at the shrine of Form; Yet open are my mind and heart To each departure from the norm.

When first I doffed my olive drab… I thought, delightfully though mut… “Henceforth I shall have pleasure… Solutely.” Dull with the drudgery of war,