The Shorter Catechism I burned my fingers on the stove And wept with bitterness; But poor old Auntie Maggie strove To comfort my distress.

Since all that is was ever bound t… Since grim, eternal laws our Bein… And both the riddle and the answer… And both the carnage and the calm… Since plain within the Book of De…

By parents I would not be pinned, Nor in my home abide, For I was wanton as the wind And tameless as the tide; So scornful of domestic hearth,

Since I am sick of Wheels That jar my day, Unto the hush that heals I steal away. Unto the core of Peace

Visibility Because my eyes were none to brigh… Strong spectacles I bought, And lo! there sprang into my sight A life beyond my thought:

My tangoing seemed to delight her; With me it was love at first sight… I mentioned That I was a writer: She asked me: “What is it you wri… “Oh, only best—sellers,” I told h…

I call myself a Tranquilist; With deep detachment I exist, From friction free; While others court the gilded thro… And worship Women, Wine and Song…

Oh you who have daring deeds to te… And you who have felt Ambition’s… Have you heard of the louse who lo… In the golden hair of a queen? He sighed all day and he sighed al…

Now Eddie Malone got a swell gram… An’ sez he: “Come along for a sea… Then Dogrib, an’ Slave, an’ Yell… Confluated near, to see an’ to hea… Then Ed turned the crank, an’ the…

As I go forth from fair to mart With racket ringing, Who would divine that in my heart Mad larks are singing. As I sweet sympathy express,

One of the Down and Out—that’s me… Stare and shrink—say! you wouldn’t… Look at my face, it’s crimped and… Don’t seem the sort of man, do I,… Slouching along in smelly rags, a…

Of twin daughters I’m the mother… Lord! how I was proud of them; Each the image of the other, Like two lilies on one stem; But while May, my first—born daug…

My Daddy used to wallop me for ev… “Its takes a hair—brush back,” sai… And still to—day I scarce can loo… Without I want in sympathy to pat… For Dad declared with unction: “S…

The harridan who holds the inn At which I toss a pot, Is old and uglier than sin,— I’m glad she knows me not. Indeed, for me it’s hard to think,

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…