Each day when it’s anighing three Old Dick looks at the clock, Then proudly brings my stick to me To mind me of our walk. And in his doggy rapture he
Today I opened wide my eyes, And stared with wonder and surpris… To see beneath November skies An apple blossom peer; Upon a branch as bleak as night
“Carry your suitcase, Sir?” he sa… I turned away to hide a grin, For he was shorter by a head Than I and pitiably thin. I could have made a pair of him,
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…
Enthusiastic was the crowd That hailed him with delight; The wine was bright, the laughter… And glorious the night. But when at dawn he drove away
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;
But yesterday I banked on fistic… Figgerin’ I’d be a champion of th… Today I’ve half a mind to quit th… For all them rosy dreams have take… Since last night a secondary bout
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…
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…
I took a contract to bury the body… Whenever, wherever or whatsoever t… Whether he die in the light o’ day… In cabin or dance—hall, camp or di… On velvet tundra or virgin peak, b…
They must not wed the Doctor said… For they were far from strong, And children of their marriage bed Might not live overlong. And yet each eve I saw them pass
My brother Jim’s a millionaire, while I have scarce a penny; His face is creased with lines of… While my mug hasn’t any. With inwardness his eyes are dim,
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…
When Aunt Jane died we hunted rou… And money everywhere we found. How much I do not care to say, But no death duties will we pay, And Aunt Jane will be well conten…
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?