A passion to be free Has ever mastered me; To none beneath the sun Will I bow down,—not one Shall leash my liberty.
Hark to the Sourdough story, told… When the pipes are lit and we smok… Into the campfire glow. Rugged are we and hoary, and stati… A genooine Sourdough story
When I played my penny whistle on… The heather bloomed about us, and… As you bent above your knitting so… And fine and soft and slow the rai… Your cheeks were pink like painted…
If fortune had not granted me To suck the Muse’s teats, I think I would have liked to be A sweeper of the streets; And city gutters glad to groom,
My only medals are the scars I’ve won in weary, peacetime wars, A—fighting for my little brood, To win them shelter, shoon and foo… But most of all to give them faith
Light up your pipe again, old chum… I’ve got to watch the bannock bake… You’d little think that we were so… Though where I don’t exactly know… The man—size mountains palisade us…
A little child was sitting Up on… And down down her cheeks the bitte… And as I sadly listened I heard t… 'Twas uttered in a voice so soft a… “Not guilty” said the Jury And th…
Although my blood I’ve shed In war’s red wrath, Oh how I darkly dread Its aftermath! Oh how I fear the day
'Tis true my garments threadbare a… And sorry poor I seem; But inly I am richer far Than any poet’s dream. For I’ve a hidden life no one
“Flowers, only flowers—bring me da… Blossoms for forgetfulness,” that… So we sacked our gardens, violets… Lilies white and bluebells laid we… Soft his pale hands touched them,…
One pearly day in early May I wal… And saw, say half a mile away, a m… A dog was cowering to his will as… Upon a dozen ducks so still they s… When like a streak the dog dashed…
Because life’s passing show Is little to his mind, There is a man I know Indrawn from human kind. His dearest friends are books;
My folks think I’m a serving maid Each time I visit home; They do not dream I ply a trade As old as Greece or Rome; For if they found I’d fouled thei…
Three score and ten, the psalmist… And half my course is well—nigh ru… I’ve had my flout at dusty death, I’ve had my whack of feast and fun… I’ve mocked at those who prate and…
My brother Tim has children ten, While I have none. Maybe that’s why he’s toiling when To ease I’ve won. But though I would some of his br…