Full fifty merry maids I heard One summer morn a—singing; And each was like a joyous bird With spring—clear not a—ringing. It was an old—time soldier song
I never kill a fly because I think that what we have of laws To regulate and civilize Our daily life —we owe to flies. Apropos, I’ll tell you of Choo, t…
Tick—tocking in my ear My dollar clock I hear. ‘Arise,’ it seems to say: ‘Behold another day To grasp the golden key
Oh Maggie, do you mind the day We went to school together, And as we stoppit by the way I rolled you in the heather? My! but you were the bonny lass
God gave you guts: don’t let Him… Brace up, be worthy of His giving… The road’s a rut, the sky’s a frow… I know you’re plumb fed up with li… Fate birches you, and wry the rod…
There’s A race of men that don’t… A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith a… And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove…
When twenty—one I loved to dream, And was to loafing well inclined; Somehow I couldn’t get up steam To welcome work of any kind. While students burned the midnight…
Dogs have a sense beyond our ken — At least my little Trixie had: Tail—wagging when I laughed, and… I sighed, eyes luminously sad. And if I planned to go away,
When I was brash and gallant—gay Just fifty years ago, I hit the ties and beat my way From Maine to Mexico; For though to Glasgow gutter bred
Do you recall that happy bike With bundles on our backs? How near to heaven it was like To blissfully relax! In cosy tavern of good cheer
'Twas in the grave—yard’s gruesome… That May and I were mated; We sneaked inside and on a tomb Our love was consummated. It’s quite all right, no doubt we’…
An olive fire’s a lovely thing; Somehow it makes me think of Spri… As in my grate it over—spills With dancing flames like daffodils… They flirt and frolic, twist and t…
A bonny bird I found today Mired in a melt of tar; Its silky breast was silver—grey, Its wings were cinnabar. So still it lay right in the way
So now I take a bitter road Whereon no bourne I see, And wearily I lift the load That once I bore with glee. For me no more by sea or shore
Sea Change I saw a Priest in beetle black Come to our golden beach, And I was taken sore aback Lest he should choose to preach