If you had the choice of two women to wed,
(Though of course the idea is quite absurd)
17 lines, 2 comments
'Why keep a cow when I can buy,'
Said he, 'the milk I need,'
19 lines
This crowded life of God's good giving
No man has relished more than I;
25 lines, 1 comment
Folk ask if I'm alive,
Most think I'm not;
25 lines, 1 comment
Aye, Montecelli, that's the name.
You may have heard of him perhaps.
25 lines
That boy I took in the car last night,
With the body that awfully sagged away,
32 lines, 1 comment
How often do I wish I were
What people call a character;
26 lines
Clorinda met me on the way
As I came from the train;
25 lines, 6 comments
If starry space no limit knows
And sun succeeds to sun,
26 lines, 1 comment
Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
25 lines
Let us be thankful, Lord, for little things -
The song of birds, the rapture of the rose;
19 lines, 1 comment
I deem that there are lyric days
So ripe with radiance and cheer,
25 lines
I'm just a mediocre man
Of no high-brow pretence;
25 lines
Why need we newer arms invent,
Poor peoples to destroy?
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You make it in your mess-tin by the brazier's rosy gleam;
You watch it cloud, then settle amber clear;
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There's sunshine in the heart of me,
My blood sings in the breeze;
75 lines
I ran a nail into my hand,
The wound was hard to heal;
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After working hard all day
In the office,
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How grand the human race would be
If every man would wear a kilt,
33 lines
Brave Thackeray has trolled of days when he was twenty-one,
And bounded up five flights of stairs, a gallant garreteer;
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Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave.
Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.
24 lines
Deeming that I were better dead,
"How shall I kill myself?" I said.
32 lines, 1 comment
No, Bill, I'm not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh
(The cove be'ind the sandbags ain't a death-or-glory cuss).
56 lines, 1 comment
It isn't the foe that we fear;
It isn't the bullets that whine;
44 lines, 1 comment
Hark to the Sourdough story, told at sixty below,
When the pipes are lit and we smoke and spit
40 lines, 1 comment
Alas! I am only a rhymer,
I don't know the meaning of Art;
25 lines, 1 comment
I'm sitting by the fire tonight,
The cat purrs on the rug;
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They dumped it on the lonely road,
Then like a streak they sped;
25 lines, 1 comment
Some carol of the banjo, to its measure keeping time;
Of viol or of lute some make a song.
51 lines
Because I was a woman lone
And had of friends so few,
25 lines
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