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…

The sheep are in the silver wood, The cows are in the broom; The goats are in the wild mountain And won’t be home by noon. My mother sang that olden tune

Would it be loss or gain To hapless human—kind If we could feel no pain Of body or of mind? Would it be for our good

So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity. All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher’s l…

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,

Because my teeth are feebly few I cannot bolt my grub like you, But have to chew and chew and chew As you can see; Yet every mouthful seems so good

We brought him in from between the… For what’s the use of risking one’… What’s the use of tearing him loos… When he’s shot in the head, and wo… However, I say, we brought him in…

It’s my belief that every man Should do his share of work, And in our economic plan No citizen should shirk. That in return each one should get

A hundred people I employed, But when they struck for higher pa… I was so damnably annoyed I told them they could stay away. I simply shut my business down;

When the boys come out from Lac L… To take the pay of the “Hudson’s… They are all a—glee for the jambor… With a whoop and a whirl, and a “… For the spree of Spring is a sacr…

I’m just a mediocre man Of no high—brow pretence; A comfortable life I plan With care and commonsense. I do the things most people do,

They dumped it on the lonely road, Then like a streak they sped; And as along the way I strode I thought that it was dead: And then I saw that yelping pup

O meadow lark, so wild and free, It cannot be, it cannot be, That men to merchandise your spell Do close you in a wicker hell! O hedgerow thrush so mad with glee…

Little Annabelle to please, (Lacking grace, I grant), Grandpa down on hands and knees Plays the elephant. Annabelle shrieks with delight,

In all the pubs from Troon to Ayr Grandfather’s father would repair With Bobby Burns, a drouthy pair, The glass to clink; And oftenwhiles, when not too “fou…