I Laugh at Life: its antics make… Where only foolish fellows take th… I laugh at pomp and vanity, at ric… At social inanity, at swager, swan… At poets, pastry—cooks and kings,…

We talked of yesteryears, of trail… Of men who played the game and los… Of mad stampedes, of toil beyond a… Of camp-fire comfort when the day… We talked of sullen nights by moon…

Beneath the trees I lounged at ea… And watched them speed the pace; They swerved and swung, they clutc… They leapt in roaring chase; The crowd was thrilled, a chap was…

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,

Let laureates sing with rapturous… Of the wonder and glory of work; Let pulpiteers preach and with pas… The indolent wretches who shirk. No doubt they are right: in the st…

Grimy men with picks and shovels Who in darkness sweat unseen, Climb from out your lousy hovels, Build a palace for the Queen; Praise the powers that be for givi…

Mad Maria in the Square Sits upon a wicker chair. When the keeper asks the price Mad Maria counts her lice. No pesito can she pay,

Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were with me… Hunger and Thirst and Cold; Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate:

I’m gatherin’ flowers by the waysi… I’ve sneaked away from the billet,… ‘E’d call me a silly fat’ead, and… To see me ’ere in the cornfield, w… For Jim and me we are rough uns,…

I’m part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have… In other minds I see. There’s something of me in the thr…

There’s a four—pronged buck a—swin… And it roamed the velvet valley ti… But I tracked it by the river, an… And I killed it on the mountain m… Now I’ve had my lazy supper, and…

I’ve sung of Violet de Vere, that… Of Gertie of the Diamond Tooth,… And Maye Lamore,—at eighty—four… That in my wild and wooly youth I… And Klondike Kit, and Gumboot Su…

‘A man should write to please hims… He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day,

Obit 23rd April 1616 Is it not strange that on this com… Two titans of their age, aye of al… Together should renounce this mort… And rise like gods, unsullied and…

Selecting in the dining—room The silver of his choice, The burglar heard from chamber glo… A female voice. As cold and bitter as a toad,