[“There are so many things I want… Said Abelard to Heloïse: “Your tresses blowing in the breez… Enchant my soul; your cheek allure… I never knew such lips as yours.”

Gaze at the good-natured crowd, List to the noise and the rattle! Heavens! that woman is loud– Loud as the din of a battle. List to the noise and the rattle!

AD LEUCONOEN Horace: Book I, Ode 13. _'Tu ne quoesieris, scire nefas-'_ It is not right for you to know, s… Leuconoe,

June 30th, 1919 Notably fond of music, I dote on… clearer tone Than ever was blared by a bugle or… by a saxophone;

It was a summer evening; Old Kaspar was at home, Sitting before his cottage door— Like in the Southey pome— And near him, with a magazine,

“C’est distingue,” says Madame La… ’Tis a fabric of subtle distinctio… For street wear it is superb. The chic of the Rue de la Paix— The style of Fifth Avenue—

There was a man in our town, and h… was wondrous rich; He gave away his millions to the c… and sich; And people cried: “The hypocrite!…

’Twas on the shores that round our… From Deal to Newport lie That I roused from sleep in a hud… An elderly wealthy guy. His hair was graying, his hair was…

Chloris lay off the flapper stuff; What’s fit for Pholoë, a fluff, Is not for Ibycus’s wife— A woman at your time of life! Ignore, old dame, such pleasures a…

AFTER HENLEY Where are the wheezes they essayed And where the smiles they made to… Where’s Caron’s seltzer siphon la… A squirt from which laid Herbert…

The burden of hard hitting. Slug… Like Honus Wagner or like Tyrus… Else fandom shouteth: “Who said y… Back to the jasper league, you min… Swat, hit, connect, line out, goet…

(March 4, 1913) Thine aid, O Muse, I consciously… I crave thy succour, ask for thine… That men may cry: “Some little od… O Muse, grant me the strength to…

Up goes the price of our bread— Up goes the cost of our caking! People must ever be fed; Bakers must ever be baking. So, though our nerves may be quaki…

Horace: Book III, Ode 9 “Donec eram gratus tibi—” HORACE, PVT.—TH INFANTR… While I was fussing you at home You put the notion in my dome

Many a jest that refuses to die Bobs up again as the seasons appea… Deathless it hits us again in the… Changeless and dull as the calenda… Musty and mouldy and yellow and se…