I ran a nail into my hand, The wound was hard to heal; So bitter was the pain to stand I thought how it would feel, To have spikes thrust through hand…
Since I am sick of Wheels That jar my day, Unto the hush that heals I steal away. Unto the core of Peace
France is the fairest land on eart… Lovely to heart’s desire, And twice a year I span its girth… Its beauty to admire. But when a pub I seek each night,
Why should I be the first to fall Of all the leaves on this old tree… Though sadly soon I know that all Will lose their hold and follow me… While my birth—brothers bravely bl…
To Dawson Town came Percy Brown… A pane of glass was in his eye, an… Upon the shoulder of his coat a le… To rest his deadly rifle when it w… The which it must have often been,…
A barefoot boy I went to school To save a cobbler’s fee, For though the porridge pot was fu… A frugal folk were we; We baked our bannocks, spun our wo…
He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMI… Cajoled the passers—by to stop; Just to admire —no need to purchas…
“And when I come to die,” he said… “Ye shall not lay me out in state, Nor leave your laurels at my head, Nor cause your men of speech orate… No monument your gift shall be,
Said I to Pain: “You would not d… Do ill to me.” Said Pain: “Poor fool! Why shoul… Whom you may be? To clown and king alike I bring
No matter how he toil and strive The fate of every man alive With luck will be to lie alone, His empty name cut in a stone. Grim time the fairest fame will fl…
A beggar in the street I saw, Who held a hand like withered claw… As cold as clay; But as I had no silver groat To give, I buttoned up my coat
There were two brothers, John and… And when the town went up in flame… To save the house of James dashed… Then turned, and lo! his own was g… And when the great World War bega…
Oh, it is good to drink and sup, And then beside the kindly fire To smoke and heap the faggots up, And rest and dream to heart’s desi… Oh, it is good to ride and run,
Said he: "You saw the Master clea… By Rushy Pond alone he sat, Serene and silent as a seer, in tweedy coat and seedy hat. you tell me you did not intrude,
Father drank himself to death,— Quite enjoyed it. Urged to draw a sober breath He’d avoid it. ‘Save your sympathy,’ said Dad;