A barefoot boy I went to school To save a cobbler’s fee, For though the porridge pot was fu… A frugal folk were we; We baked our bannocks, spun our wo…
Oh the wife she tried to tell me t… Of a wood—pecker a—rapping on the… And she thought that I was foolin… Of the mustering of legions, and ’… ‘Twas calling me to pull my freigh…
Once, when a boy, I killed a cat. I guess it’s just because of that A cat evokes my tenderness, And takes so kindly my caress. For with a rich, resonant purr
Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gles… “That’s whit I hate maist aboot f… Noo jist hae a keek at yon ferm—ho… Weel, think o’ it, doon in the dun… A’ hell’s fairly belchin’ oot yonn…
My daughter Jane makes dresses For beautiful Princesses; But though she’s plain is Jane, Of needlework she’s vain, And makes such pretty things
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, And the mouth so mocking gay, A wanton you to the finger—tips, Who break men’s hearts in play; A thing of dust I have striven fo…
Each time that I switch on the li… A Miracle it seems to me That I should rediscover sight And banish dark so utterly. One moment I am bleakly blind,
This crowded life of God’s good g… No man has relished more than I; I’ve been so goldarned busy living I’ve never had the time to die. So busy fishing, hunting, roving,
Some poets sing of scenery; Some to fair maids make sonnets sw… A fig for love and greenery, Be mine a song of things to eat. Let brother bards divinely dream,
He took the grade in second —quite… Dizzy and dangerous, yet how subli… The road went up and up; it curved… The mountain and the gorge grew mo… He drove serenely, with no hint of…
I am a stout materialist; With abstract terms I can’t agree… And so I’ve made a little list Of words that don’t make sense to… To fool my reason I refuse,
He burned a hole in frozen muck, He pierced the icy mould, And there in six—foot dirt he stru… A sack or so of gold. He burned holes in the Decalogue,
Missis Moriarty called last week,… “Sure the heart of me’s broken ent… You’ve still got your Dinnis to c… Lyin’ alone, cold as a stone, kilt… Oh, I’m seein’ him now as I looke…
Sweet maiden, why disguise The beauty of your eyes With glasses black? Although I’m well aware That you are more than fair,
Was It You? “Hullo, young Jones! with your ti… And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usu… For I’m overdrawn, I fear.”