#EnglishWriters
The little path that leads to home… That is the road for me, I know no finer path to roam, With finer sights to see. With thoroughfares the world is li…
Once there was a boy who never Tore his clothes, or hardly ever, Never made his sister mad, Never whipped fer bein’ bad, Never scolded by his Ma,
I DO not care for garments fine, I do not care for medals bright; I have no wish to quench with wine My thirst when I go home at night… I’m satisfied with work to do,
I’m standing at my lathe all day And this is what I hear it say: ‘The best of you, the best of me Are needed now across the sea. We do not hear the cannon roar,
Queerest little chap he is, Always saying: ‘Aw Gee Whiz!’ Needing something from the store That you’ve got to send him for And you call him from his play,
(Who had “Return if Possible” Or… “You’ve heard a good deal of the t… wires,” he said as we sat at our e… And talked of the struggle that’s… lives in these terrible days o’er…
Little girls are mighty nice, Take ‘em any way they come; They are always worth their price; Life without ’em would be glum; Run earth’s lists of treasures thr…
Time was when spring returned we w… To find another home to rent; We wanted fresher, cleaner walls, And bigger rooms and wider halls, And open plumbing and the dome
Ma has a dandy little book that’s… slips, An’ when she wants to pay a bill a… it she rips; She just writes in the dollars and…
It’s guessing time at our house; e… We start guessing what old Santa’… Everyone of us holds secrets that… And that eyes and lips are plainly… And a little lip that quivered jus…
Nobody stops at the rich man’s doo… Nobody shouts a ‘hello!’ to him in… Nobody comes to his porch at night… And talks till it’s time to go to… Nobody just happens in to call on…
Life is a challenge to the bold, It flings its gauntlet down And bids us, if we seek for gold And glory and renown, To come and take them from its sto…
The patter of rain on the roof, The glint of the sun on the rose; Of life, these the warp and the wo… The weaving that everyone knows. Now grief with its consequent tear…
She is fair to see and sweet, Dainty from her head to feet, Modest, as her blushing shows, Happy, as her smiles disclose, And the young man at her side
Listen to the laughter of the broo… Listen to the chatter of the black… Stand an’ see the beauties of the… Then ask of God why mortals haven… Than to quarrel an’ to battle