The God of Scribes looked down an… The bitter band of seven, Who had outraged his holy law And lost their hope of Heaven: Came Villon, petty thief and pimp…

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…

Oh how it would enable me To titillate my vanity If you should choose to label me A Poet of Profanity! For I’ve been known with vulgar s…

I knew three sisters,—all were swe… Wishful to wed was I, And wondered which would mostly me… The matrimonial tie. I asked the first what fate would…

“This bunch of violets,” he said, “Is for my daughter dear. Since that glad morn when she was… It is today a year. She lives atop this flight of stai…

Let others sing of Empire and of… A song of Little Puddleton is goo… A song of kindly living, and of co… I seldom read the papers, so I do… I go to bed at sunset, and I leap…

My Favourite Fan Being a writer I receive Sweet screeds from folk of every l… Some are so weird you’d scarce bel… And some quite hard to understand:

What do they matter, our headlong… Think ye our glory and gain will p… By the cheers of our Victory will… If by the Victory all we mean is… Is the pomp and power of a glitt’r…

As home from church we two did plo… “Grandpa,” said Rosy, “What is G… Seeking an answer to her mind, This is the best that I could fin… God is the Iz—ness of our Cosmic…

Dogs have a sense beyond our ken — At least my little Trixie had: Tail—wagging when I laughed, and… I sighed, eyes luminously sad. And if I planned to go away,

Beneath the trees I lounged at ea… And watched them speed the pace; They swerved and swung, they clutc… They leapt in roaring chase; The crowd was thrilled, a chap was…

In the Northland there were three Pukka Pliers of the pen; Two of them had Fame in fee And were loud and lusty men; By them like a shrimp was I —

I don’t know how the fishes feel,… That a gay young flapper of a fema… Yet —that’s exactly what she did a… That’ what evr you do you can’t pu… Now that young tom—cod was a dread…

L’Escargot D’Or O Tavern of the Golden Snail! Ten sous have I, so I’ll regale; Ten sous your amber brew to sip (Eight for the bock and two the ti…

Sea Change I saw a Priest in beetle black Come to our golden beach, And I was taken sore aback Lest he should choose to preach