#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
That boy I took in the car last n… With the body that awfully sagged… And the lips blood—crisped, and th… And the poor hands folded and cold… Oh, I’ve thought and I’ve thought…
This is the pay—day up at the mine… There’s money to burn in the stree… With a haggard face and a ribband… And I know at the dawn she’ll com… One for herself, to drown her sham…
It’s my belief that every man Should do his share of work, And in our economic plan No citizen should shirk. That in return each one should get
The aged Queen who passed away Had sixty servants, so they say; Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie… Two soapy ones have I. The old Queen had of beds a score…
Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were with me… Hunger and Thirst and Cold; Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate:
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…
When I attended Mass today A coloured maid sat down by me, And as I watched her kneel and pr… Her reverence was good to see. For whether there may be or no’
I met an ancient man who mushed With Peary to the Pole. Said I, “In all that land so hush… What most inspired your soul?” He looked at me with bleary eye,
Dick’s dead! It was the Polack gu… Put powdered glass into his cage When I was tramping round the yar… I could have killed him in my rage… I slugged him with that wrench 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…
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…
Unto his housemaid spoke the Lair… "Tonight the Bishop is our guest; The spare room must be warmed and… To please him we will do our best. A worthy haggis you must make,
Mumsie and Dad are raven dark And I am lily blonde. ‘Tis strange,’ I once heard nurse… ‘You do not correspond.’ And yet they claim me as their own…
Because I love the soothing weed And am of sober type, I’d choose me for a friend in need A man who smokes a pipe. A cove who hasn’t much to say,
As nothingness draws near How I can see Inexorably clear My vanity. My sum of worthiness