#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMI… Cajoled the passers—by to stop; Just to admire —no need to purchas…
Here in the Autumn of my days My life is mellowed in a haze. Unpleasant sights are none to clea… Discordant sounds I hardly hear. Infirmities like buffers soft
A sea—gull with a broken wing, I found upon the kelp—strewn shore… It sprawled and gasped; I sighed:… I fear your flying days are o’er; Sad victim of a savage gun,
Just think! some night the stars w… Upon a cold, grey stone, And trace a name with silver beam, And lo! 'twill be your own. That night is speeding on to greet
'Tis true my garments threadbare a… And sorry poor I seem; But inly I am richer far Than any poet’s dream. For I’ve a hidden life no one
Because I have ten thousand pound… And leave my living tranquilly for… For in some procreative way that i… Ten thousand pounds will breed, th… So as I have a healthy hate of ec…
If you and I should chance to mee… I guess you wouldn’t care; I’m sure you’d pass me in the stre… As if I wasn’t there; You’d never look me in the face,
My poem may be yours indeed In melody and tone, If in its rhythm you can read A music of your own; If in its pale woof you can weave
When a girl’s sixteen, and as poor… And she hasn’t a friend and she ha… Heigh—ho! She’s as safe in Paris… As a lamb night—strayed where the… And that was I; oh, it’s seven ye…
Of course you’ve heard of the Nan… On her famous quest of the Arctic… For it was a foreign Prince’s whi… And a golden quid was no more to h… So we sailed away and our hearts w…
I sat her in her baby chair, And set upon its tray Her kewpie doll and teddy bear, But no, she would not play. Although they looked so wistfully
How grand the human race would be If every man would wear a kilt, A flirt of Tartan finery, Instead of trousers, custom built! Nay, do not think I speak to joke…
Men of the High North, the wild s… Islands of opal float on silver se… Swift splendors kindle, barbaric,… Pale ports of amber, golden argosi… Ringed all around us the proud pea…
Striving is life, yet life is stri… I fight to live, yet live to fight… The vital urge is in my driving, Yet I must drive with all my migh… Each day a battle, and the fray
I like to look at fishermen And oftentimes I wish One would be lucky now and then And catch a little fish. I watch them statuesquely stand,
