#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
I have some friends, some worthy f… And worthy friends are rare: These carpet slippers on my feet, That padded leather chair; This old and shabby dressing—gown,
Three Holies sat in sacred place And quaffed celestial wine, As they discussed the human race With dignity divine. Said they: 'Although in doctrine…
I’m scared of it all, God’s truth… It’s too big and brutal for me. My nerve’s on the raw and I don’t… For all the “hoorah” that I see. I’m pinned between subway and over…
I was a seed that fell In silver dew; And nobody could tell, For no one knew; No one could tell my fate,
Is it not strange? A year ago to—… With scarce a thought beyond the h… I did my decent job and earned my… Was averagely happy, I’ll be boun… Ay, in my little groove I was con…
It was foretold by sybils three that in an air crash he would die. “I’ll fool their prophesy,” said h… “You won’t get me to go on high. Howe’re the need for haste and spe…
He had the grocer’s counter—stoop, That little man so grey and neat; His moustache had a doleful droop, He hailed me in the slushy street. “I’ve sold my shop,” he said to me…
I envy not those gay galoots Who count on dying in their boots; For that, to tell the sober truth Sould be the privilege of youth; But aged bones are better sped
Each morning as I catch my bus, A—fearing I’ll be late, I think: there are in all of us Two folks quite separate; As one I greet the office staff
Like prim Professor of a College I primed my shelves with books of… And now I stand before them dumb, Just like a child that sucks its t… And stares forlorn and turns away,
An angel was tired of heaven, as h… His halo was tilted sideways, and… So the Master stooped in His pity… For the space of a moon, to the ea… He doffed his celestial garments,…
If you’re up against a bruiser and… Grin. If you’re feeling pretty groggy, a… Grin. Don’t let him see you’re funking,…
Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great
One spoke: “Come, let us gaily go With laughter, love and lust, Since in a century or so We’ll all be boneyard dust. When unborn shadows hold the scree…
The mule—skinner was Bill Jerome,… Two tinhorns from the dives of No… And as for sunny Southland bound,… The solitude that ringed them roun… Then when the trail crooked crazil…