#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
When the long, long day is over, a… I hope that it won’t be hell—fire,… And I hope that it won’t be heave… All I want is just quiet, just to… Look at my face, toil—furrowed; lo…
Elisabeth imagines I’ve A yellow streak She deems I have no dash and driv… Jest dogoned weak. ‘A man should be a man,’ says Liz
Don’t cheer, damn you! Don’t chee… Silence! Your bitterest tear Is fulsomely sweet to—day. . . . Down on your knees and pray. See, they sing as they go,
Poets may praise a wattle thatch Doubtfully waterproof; Let me uplift my lowly latch Beneath a rose—tiled roof. Let it be gay and rich in hue,
Pedlar’s coming down the street, Housewives beat a swift retreat. Don’t you answer to the bell; Heedless what she has to sell. Just discreetly go inside.
Oh Lip—Stick Liz was in the biz,… She had a lot of fancy rags, Of h… She had a man, a fancy man, His n… And he used to beat her up because… Now Lip—Stick Liz she loved her…
Here is this vale of sweet abiding… My ultimate and dulcet home, That gently dreams above the chidi… of restless and impatient foam; Beyond the hazards of hell weather…
“I’ll do the old dump in a day,” He told me in his brittle way. “Two more, I guess, I’ll give to… Before I hit the trail for home; But while I’m there I kindo’ hope
He stared at me with sad, hurt eye… That drab, untidy man; And though my clients I despise I do the best I can To comfort them with cheerful chat…
The sunshine seeks my little room To tell me Paris streets are gay; That children cry the lily bloom All up and down the leafy way; That half the town is mad with Ma…
Tell me, Tramp, where I may go To be free from human woe; Say where I may hope to find Ease of heart and peace of mind; Is thee not some isle you know
I could have sold him up because His rent was long past due; And Grimes, my lawyer, said it wa… The proper thing to do: But how could I be so inhuman?
It’s fine to have a blow—out in a… With terrapin and canvas—back and… To enjoy the flowers and music, wa… Smoke a choice cigar, and sip the… It’s bully in a high—toned joint t…
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,
Lolling on a bank of thyme Drunk with Spring I made this rhy… Though peoples perish in defeat, And races suffer to survive, The sunshine never was so sweet,