#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
I told a truth, a tragic truth That tore the sullen sky; A million shuddered at my sooth And anarchist was I. Red righteousness was in my word
Dames should be doomed to dungeons Who masticate raw onions. She was the cuddly kind of Miss A man can love to death; But when I sought to steal a kiss
In the Northland there were three Pukka Pliers of the pen; Two of them had Fame in fee And were loud and lusty men; By them like a shrimp was I —
There are strange things done in t… By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secr… That would make your blood run col… The Northern Lights have seen que…
Ye who know the Lone Trail fain w… Though it lead to glory or the dar… Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid y… The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail f… The trails of the world be countle…
Deeming that I was due to die I framed myself a coffin; So full of graveyard zeal was I, I set the folks a—laughing. I made it snugly to my fit,
They brought the mighty chief to t… They showed him strange, unwonted… Yet as he wandered up and down, He seemed to scorn their vain deli… His face was grim, his eye lacked…
His face was like a lobster red, His legs were white as mayonnaise: “I’ve had a jolly lunch,” he said, That Englishman of pleasant ways. “Thy do us well at our hotel:
Franklin fathered bastards fourtee… (So I read in the New Yorker); If it’s true, in terms of courtin’ Benny must have been a corker. To be prudent I’ve aspired,
There once was a Square, such a s… And he loved a trim Triangle; But she was a flirt and around her… Vainly she made him dangle. Oh he wanted to wed and he had no…
Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his fo… But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze.
Behold! the Spanish flag they’re… Before the Palace courtyard gate; To watch its progress bold and bla… Two hundred patient people wait. Though bandsmen play the anthem br…
Navels Men have navels more or less; Some are neat, some not Being fat I must confess Mine is far from hot.
Let others sing of gold and gear,… But oh, the days when I was poor,… When every dawn was like a gem, so… And I had but a single coat, and… When I would feast right royally…
We have no heart for civil strife, Our burdens we prefer to bear; We long to live a peaceful life And claim of happiness our share. If only to be clothed and fed