Window Shopper I stood before a candy shop Which with a Christmas radiance s… I saw my parents pass and stop To grin at me and then go on.
Said the Door: “She came in With no shadow of sin; Turned the key in the lock, Slipped out of her frock, The robe she liked best
Beyond the Rocking Bridge it lies… The huts where hive and swarm and… Through all the night each cabin l… A blood—red heliograph of lust, a… From Dawson Town, soft skulking d…
I do not write for love of pelf, Nor lust for phantom fame; I do not rhyme to please myself, Nor yet to win acclaim: No, strange to say it is my plan,
We’re taking Marie Toro to her ho… We’re taking Marie Toro to her la… Behold! her hearse is hung with wr… Except the blossoms heaping high u… A week ago she roamed the street,…
When I was cub reporter I Would interview the Great, And sometimes they would make repl… And sometimes hesitate; But often they would sharply say,
Confound all aberrations which Make men do foolish things, Like buying bracelets for a bitch, Or witless wedding rings. As if we had not woe enough
I love the cheery bustle Of children round the house, The tidy maids a—hustle, The chatter of my spouse; The laughter and the singing,
I sought the trails of South and… I wandered East and West; But pride and passion drove me for… And would not let me rest. And still I seek, as still I roam…
I just think that dreams are best, Just to sit and fancy things; Give your gold no acid test, Try not how your silver rings; Fancy women pure and good,
I think I’ll buy a little field, Though scant am I of pelf, And hold the hope that it may yiel… A living for myself; For I have toiled ten thousand da…
I often wonder how Life clicks because They don’t make women now Like Mammy was. When broods of two or three
Singing larks I saw for sale — (Ah! the pain of it) Plucked and ready to impale On a roasting spit; Happy larks that summer—long
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…
Of all the boys with whom I fough… In Africa and Sicily, Bill was the bravest of the lot In our dare—devil Company. That lad would rather die than yie…