Three score and ten, the psalmist… And half my course is well—nigh ru… I’ve had my flout at dusty death, I’ve had my whack of feast and fun… I’ve mocked at those who prate and…
While I am emulating Keats My brother fabrics toilet seats, The which, they say, are works of… Aesthetic features of the mart; So exquisitely are they made
We’ve finished up the filthy war; We’ve won what we were fighting fo… (Or have we? I don’t know). But anyway I have my wish: I’m back upon the old Boul’ Mich’…
Ho! we were strong, we were swift,… Youth was a challenge, and Life w… All that was best in us gladly we… Sprang from the rally, and leapt f… Smiling is Love in a foam of Spri…
It’s easy to fight when everything… And you’re mad with the thrill and… It’s easy to cheer when victory’s… And wallow in fields that are gory… It’s a different song when everyth…
When Chewed—ear Jenkins got hitch… His flowin’ locks, ye recollect, w… But in old Hymen’s jack—pot, it’s… Them flowin’ locks jest disappeare… Jest seemed to wilt an’ fade away…
Said President MacConnachie to T… “We ought to have a piper for our… Yon squakin’ saxophone gives me th… I’m sick of jazz, I want to hear… “Alas! it’s true,” said Tam MacC…
You’ve heard of “Casey at The Ba… And “Casey’s Tabble Dote”; But now it’s time To write a rhyme Of “Casey’s Billy—goat.”
Bill has left his house of clay, Slammed the door and gone away: How he laughed but yesterday! I had two new jokes to tell, Salty, but he loved them well:
Lost Kitten Two men I saw reel from a bar And stumble down the street; Coarse and uncouth as workmen are, They walked with wobbly feet.
Mad Maria in the Square Sits upon a wicker chair. When the keeper asks the price Mad Maria counts her lice. No pesito can she pay,
I wanted the gold, and I sought i… I scrabbled and mucked like a slav… Was it famine or scurvy—I fought… I hurled my youth into a grave. I wanted the gold, and I got it—
I made a picture; all my heart I put in it, and all I knew Of canvas—cunning and of Art, Of tenderness and passion true. A worshipped Master came to see;
God’s truth! these be the bitter t… In vain I sing my sheaf of rhymes… And hold my battered hat for dimes… And then a copper collars me, Barking: “It’s begging that you b…
Though Virtue hurt you Vice is ni… Aye, Parson says it’s wrong, Yet for my pleasing I’ll suffice With Women, Wine and Song. But though it be with jocund glee