'Twas on an iron, icy day I saw a pirate gull down—plane, And hover in a wistful way Nigh where my chickens picked thei… An outcast gull, so grey and old,

The leaves are sick and jaundiced,… Drift down the air; December’s sky is sodden grey, Dark with despair; A bleary dawn will light anon

“Tell Annie I’ll be home in time To help her with her Christmas—tr… That’s what he wrote, and hark! th… Of Christmas bells, and where is… And how the house is dark and sad,

Familiarity some claim Can breed contempt, So from it let it be your aim To be exempt. Let no one exercise his brawn

He’s yonder, on the terrace of the… The little wizened Spanish man, I… He’s sitting with his Pernod on h… He’s staring at the passers with h… He never takes his piercing eyes f…

The sunshine seeks my little room To tell me Paris streets are gay; That children cry the lily bloom All up and down the leafy way; That half the town is mad with Ma…

Let poets piece prismatic words, Give me the jewelled joy of birds! What ecstasy moves them to sing? Is it the lyric glee of Spring, The dewy rapture of the rose?

Said Lenin’s ghost to Stalin’s gh… “Mate with me in the Tomb; Then day by day the rancid host May gaze upon our doom. A crystal casket we will share;

When your marrer bone seems 'oller… And you’re glad you ain’t no talle… And you’re all a—shakin’ like you… When your skin creeps like a pulle… And you’re duckin’ all the bullets…

We was in a crump—'ole, 'im and me… Fightin’ wiv our bayonets was we; Fightin’ ‘ard as ’ell we was, Fightin’ fierce as fire because It was ‘im or me as must be downed…

“A year to live,” the Doctor said… “There is no cure,” and shook his… Ah me! I felt as good as dead. Yet quite resigned to fate was I, Thinking: “Well, since I have to…

It’s my belief that every man Should do his share of work, And in our economic plan No citizen should shirk. That in return each one should get

I will not wash my face; I will not brush my hair; I “pig” around the place— There’s nobody to care. Nothing but rock and tree;

This crowded life of God’s good g… No man has relished more than I; I’ve been so goldarned busy living I’ve never had the time to die. So busy fishing, hunting, roving,

She lay like a saint on her copper… Like an angel asleep she lay, In the stare of the ghoulish folks… Past the Dead and sneak away. Then came old Jules of the sightl…