Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond

When the thunder stalks the sky,
When tickle-footed walks the fly,
When shirt is wet and throat is dr
Look, my darling, thats July.
Through the grassy lawn be leather

Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To count what my black hen doth la
If perchance she lays too many,

Oh, “rorty” was a mid-Victorian w
Which meant “fine, splendid, jolly
And often to me it has reoccurred
In moments melancholy.
For instance, children, I think i

One thing that literature would be
Would be a more restricted employm
metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Gre
Can’t seem just to say that anythi

The pig, if I am not mistaken;
Supplies us sausage, ham, and baco
Let others say his heart is big—
I call it stupid of the pig.

This is my dream,
It is my own dream,
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love u

One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one’s own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

I sit in the dusk. I am all alone
Enter a child and an ice-cream con
A parent is easily beguiled
By sight of this coniferous child.
The friendly embers warmer gleam,

Enter, breath;
Breath, slip out;
Blood, be channeled,
And wind about.
O, blessed breath and blood which