#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity. All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher’s l…
We talked of yesteryears, of trail… Of men who played the game and los… Of mad stampedes, of toil beyond a… Of camp-fire comfort when the day… We talked of sullen nights by moon…
It’s not for laws I’ve broken That bitter tears I’ve wept, But solemn vows I’ve spoken And promises unkept; It’s not for sins committed
From off my calendar today A leaf I tear; So swiftly passes smiling May Without a care. And now the gentleness of June
It’s good the great green earth to… Where sights of awe the soul inspi… But oh, it’s best, the coming home… The crackle of one’s own hearth—fi… You’ve hob—nobbed with the solemn…
The Junior God looked from his pl… In the conning towers of heaven, And he saw the world through the s… Like a giant golf—ball driven. And because he was bored, as some…
Twin boys I bore, my joy, my care… My hope, my life they were to me; Their father, dashing, debonair, Fell fighting at Gallipoli. His daring gallantry, no doubt,
Window Shopper I stood before a candy shop Which with a Christmas radiance s… I saw my parents pass and stop To grin at me and then go on.
A little child was sitting Up on… And down down her cheeks the bitte… And as I sadly listened I heard t… 'Twas uttered in a voice so soft a… “Not guilty” said the Jury And th…
My Pa and Ma their honeymoon Passed in an Andulasian June, And though produced in Drury Lane… I must have been conceived in Spa… Now having lapsed from fair estate…
I’ve been sittin’ starin’, starin’… And tryin’ to convince meself it’s… (Look out there, lad! That sniper… ’E’ll be layin’ of you out the sam… Jim as lies there in the dug—out w…
My mother loved her horses and Her hounds of pedigree; She did not kiss the baby hand I held to her in glee. Of course I had a sweet nou—nou
She I’m waiting for the man I hope to… I’ve never seen him —that’s the fu… I promised I would wear a rose of… Pinned on my coat above my flutter…
It’s cruel cold on the water—front… Only the black tide weltering, onl… And I, alone, like a storm—tossed… Shuffling along in the icy wind, g… They’re playing a tune in McGuffy…
“Where are you going, Young Fello… On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, D… They’re looking for men, they say.… “But you’re only a boy, Young Fel…