#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
When looking back I dimly see The trails my feet have trod, Some hand divine, it seems to me, Has pulled the strings with God; Some angel form has lifeward leane…
I wish that I could understand The moving marvel of my Hand; I watch my fingers turn and twist, The supple bending of my wrist, The dainty touch of finger—tip,
Heed me, feed me, I am hungry, I… Boughs of balsam, slabs of cedar,… Heap them on me, let me hug them t… Roaring, soaring up to heaven as a… Bring me knots of sunny maple, sil…
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…
Said Jock McBrown to Tam McSmit… “A little bet I’m game to take on… That I can scotch this Shakespear… And prove Will just a stoodge for… Said Tam McSmith to Jock McBrow…
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…
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 —
The lady at the corner wicket Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lic… And on the envelope to stick it; A spinster lacking girlish grace, Yet sweetly sensitive, her face
I look into the aching womb of nig… I look across the mist that masks… The moon is tired and gives but li… The stars have gone to bed. The earth is sick and seems to bre…
Though I defy the howling horde As bloody—browed I smite, Back to the wall with shattered sw… When darkly dooms the night; Though hoarse they cheer as I go…
God gave you guts: don’t let Him… Brace up, be worthy of His giving… The road’s a rut, the sky’s a frow… I know you’re plumb fed up with li… Fate birches you, and wry the rod…
Lone amid the café’s cheer, Sad of heart am I to—night; Dolefully I drink my beer, But no single line I write. There’s the wretched rent to pay,
No matter how he toil and strive The fate of every man alive With luck will be to lie alone, His empty name cut in a stone. Grim time the fairest fame will fl…
A passion to be free Has ever mastered me; To none beneath the sun Will I bow down,—not one Shall leash my liberty.
I’ve got a little job on 'and, the… At seven by the Captain’s watch I… I wants to 'ave it nice and neat,… And I 'opes the God of soldier me… Because, you see, it’s somethin’…