A pote is sure a goofy guy; He ain’t got guts like you or I To tell the score; He ain’t goy gumption 'nuff to kno… The game of life’s to get the doug…

I look at no one, me; I pass them on the stair; Shadows! I don’t see; Shadows! everywhere. Haunting, taunting, staring, glari…

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…

Birds have no consciousness of doo… Yon thrush that serenades me daily From scented snow of hawthorn bloo… Would not trill out his glee so ga… Could he foretell his songful brea…

The portrait there above my bed They tell me is a work of art; My Wife,—since twenty years she’s… Her going nearly broke my heart. Alas! No little ones we had

Said Lenin’s ghost to Stalin’s gh… “Mate with me in the Tomb; Then day by day the rancid host May gaze upon our doom. A crystal casket we will share;

From off my calendar today A leaf I tear; So swiftly passes smiling May Without a care. And now the gentleness of June

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.

A very humble pen I ply Beneath a cottage thatch; And in the sunny hours I try To till my cabbage patch; And in the gloaming glad am I

I was in Warsaw when the first bo… I was in Warsaw when the Terror c… Havoc and horror, famine, fear and… Blasting from loveliness a living… Barring the station towered a sent…

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 guess folks think I’m mighty du… Since Jack and Jim and Joe Have hit the trail to Kingdom Com… And left me here below: Since Death, the bastard, bowled…

I loved to toy with tuneful rhyme, My fancies into verse to weave; For as I walked my words would ch… So bell—like I could scarce belie… My rhymes rippled like a brook,

Dusting my books I spent a busy d… Not ancient toes, time—hallowed an… but modern volumes, classics in th… whose makers now are numbered with… Men of a generation more than mine…

It isn’t the foe that we fear; It isn’t the bullets that whine; It isn’t the business career Of a shell, or the bust of a mine; It isn’t the snipers who seek