#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
I was Mojeska’s leading man And famous parts I used to play, But now I do the best I can To earn my bread from day to day; Here in this Burg of Breaking He…
The night before I left Milan A mob jammed the Cathedral Square… And high the tide of passion ran As politics befouled the air. A seething hell of human strife,
I have a tiny piney wood; my trees are only fifty, Yet give me shade and solitude For they are thick and thrifty. And every day to me they fling
France is the fairest land on eart… Lovely to heart’s desire, And twice a year I span its girth… Its beauty to admire. But when a pub I seek each night,
Oh Julie Claire was very fair, Yet generous as well, And many a lad of metal had A saucy tale to tell Of sultry squeeze beneath the tree…
This is the law of the Yukon, and… “Send not your foolish and feeble;… Strong for the red rage of battle;… Send me men girt for the combat, m… Swift as the panther in triumph, f…
She was a Philistine spick and sp… He was a bold Bohemian. She had the mode, and the last at… He had a cape and a brigand hat. She was so riant and chic and trim…
Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for bre… And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near,
How often have I started out With no thought in my noodle, And wandered here and there about, Where fancy bade me toddle; Till feeling faunlike in my glee
Three gentlemen live close beside… A painter of pictures bizarre, A poet whose virtues might guide m… A singer who plays the guitar; And there on my lintel is Cupid;
“Let’s make him a sailor,” said F… “And he will adventure the sea.” “A soldier,” said Mother, “is rat… What I would prefer him to be.” “A lawyer,” said Father, “would p…
Of Poetry I’ve been accused, But much more often I have not; Oh, I have been so much amused By those who’ve put me on the spot… And measured me by rules above
I’m part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have… In other minds I see. There’s something of me in the thr…
We bore him to his boneyard lot One afternoon at three; The clergyman was on the spot To earn his modest fee. We sprinkled on his coffin ld
My tangoing seemed to delight her; With me it was love at first sight… I mentioned That I was a writer: She asked me: “What is it you wri… “Oh, only best—sellers,” I told h…