#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
I wonder ‘oo and wot ’e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn’t see ‘is face because The night was ’ideous thick. I just made out among the black
I’d rather be the Jester than the… I’d rather jangle cap and bells th… I’d rather make his royal ribs wit… Than see him sitting in the suds a… I’d rather be the Court buffoon t…
No lyric line I ever penned The praise this parasitic bird; And what is more, I don’t intend To write a laudatory word, Since in my garden robins made
Moko, the Educated Ape is here, The pet of vaudeville, so the post… And every night the gaping people… To see him in his panoply appear; To see him pad his paunch with dai…
The sky is like an envelope, One of those blue official things; And, sealing it, to mock our hope, The moon, a silver wafer, clings. What shall we find when death give…
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 leaves are falling one and one… Each like a life to me, As over—soonly in the sun They spiral goldenly: So airily and warily
Three men I saw beside a bar, Regarding o’er their bottle, A frog who smoked a rank cigar They’d jammed within its throttle. A Pasha frog it must have been
I’ve tinkered at my bits of rhymes In weary, woeful, waiting times; In doleful hours of battle—din, Ere yet they brought the wounded i… Through vigils of the fateful nigh…
I wonder if successful men Are always happy? And do they sing with gusto when Springtime is sappy? Although I am of snow—white hair
A Belgian Priest—Soldier Speaks; GURR! You cochon! Stand and fig… Show your mettle! Snarl and bite! Spawn of an accursed race, Turn and meet me face to face!
A little mousey man he was With board, and chalk in hand; And millions were awestruck becaus… They couldn’t understand. Said he: “E equals Mc2:
Of course you’ve heard of the Nan… On her famous quest of the Arctic… For it was a foreign Prince’s whi… And a golden quid was no more to h… So we sailed away and our hearts w…
When I was young I was too proud To wheel my daughter in her pram. “It’s infra dig,” I said aloud,— Bot now I’m old, behold I am Perambulating up and down
Day after day behold me plying My pen within an office drear; The dullest dog, till homeward hie… Then lo! I reign a king of cheer. A throne have I of padded leather…