#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
‘Come, see,’ said he, ‘my four—foo… A forty volume row; And every one I wrote myself, But that, of course, you know.’ I stared, I searched a memory dim…
I know a garden where the lilies g… And one who lingers in the sunshin… She is than white—stoled lily far… And oh, her eyes are heaven—lit wi… I know a garret, cold and dark and…
When from my fumbling hand the tir… And in the twilight weary droops m… While to my quiet heart a still vo… Calls me to join my kindred of the… Grant that I may, O Lord, ere re…
Life, you’ve been mighty good to m… Yet here’s the end of the trail; No more mountain, moor and sea, No more saddle and sail. Waves a—leap in the laughing sun
Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the P… And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaz… When War was rampant in the land,
All day with brow of anxious thoug… The dictionary through, Amid a million words he sought The sole one that would do. He wandered on from pub to pub
Heed me, feed me, I am hungry, I… Boughs of balsam, slabs of cedar,… Heap them on me, let me hug them t… Roaring, soaring up to heaven as a… Bring me knots of sunny maple, sil…
Being a gaoler I’m supposed To be a hard—boiled guy; Yet never prison walls enclosed A kinder soul than I: Passing my charges precious pills
Of all the boys with whom I fough… In Africa and Sicily, Bill was the bravest of the lot In our dare—devil Company. That lad would rather die than yie…
“Miss Rosemary,” I dourly said, “Our balance verges on the red, We must cut down our overhead. One of the staff will have to go. There’s Mister Jones, he’s mighty…
My stretcher is one scarlet stain, And as I tries to scrape it clean… I tell you wot—I’m sick with pain For all I’ve 'eard, for all I’ve… Around me is the 'ellish night,
I saw the Greatest Man on Earth, Aye, saw him with my proper eyes. A loin—cloth spanned his proper gi… But he was naked otherwise, Excepting for his grey sombrero;
(The French “Tommy”). Oh, some of us lolled in the chate… And some of us slinked in the slum… But now we are here with a song an… To serve at the sign of the drum.
For supper we had curried tripe. I washed the dishes, wound the clo… Then for awhile I smoked my pipe… Puff! Puff! We had no word of tal… The Misses sewed —a sober pair;
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…