#1912 #AmericanWriters #RhymesOfARollingStone
There once was a Square, such a s… And he loved a trim Triangle; But she was a flirt and around her… Vainly she made him dangle. Oh he wanted to wed and he had no…
“Where is your little boy to—day?” I asked her at the gate. “I used to see him at his play, And often I would wait: He was so beautiful, so bright,
The man above was a murderer, the… And I lay there in the bunk betwe… A weary armful of skin and bone, w… My feet were froze, and the lifele… The little flesh that clung to my…
My Daddy used to wallop me for ev… “Its takes a hair—brush back,” sai… And still to—day I scarce can loo… Without I want in sympathy to pat… For Dad declared with unction: “S…
A Wintertide we had been wed When Jan went off to sea; And now the laurel rose is red And I wait on the quay. His berthing boat I watch with dr…
Marie Antoinette They told to Marie Antoinette: “The beggers at your gate Have eyes too sad for tears to wet… And for your pity wait.”
Lord, I’m grey, my face is run, But by old Harry, I’ve had my fun… And all about, I seem to see Lads and lassies that look like me… Ice—blue eyes on every hand,
You make it in your mess—tin by th… You watch it cloud, then settle am… You lift it with your bay’nit, and… The very breath of it is ripe with… You’re awful cold and dirty, and a…
My boy’s come back; he’s here at l… He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache are past, My only son is back again. He’s home with music, flags and fl…
The Spirit of the Unborn Babe pe… Peered through the window—pane tha… For, oh, the sky was desolate and… And how the little room was cramme… Except the flirting of the fire th…
A wild and woeful race he ran Of lust and sin by land and sea; Until, abhorred of God and man, They swung him from the gallows—tr… And then he climbed the Starry St…
When young I was an Atheist, Yea, pompous as a pigeon No opportunity I missed To satirize religion. I sneered at Scripture, scoffed a…
A bunch of the boys were whooping… The kid that handles the music—box… Back of the bar, in a solo game, s… And watching his luck was his ligh… When out of the night, which was f…
I think the things I own and love Acquire a sense of me, That gives them value far above The worth that others see. My chattels are of me a part:
That scathing word I used in scor… (Though half a century ago) Comes back to me this April morn, Like boomerang to work me woe; Comes back to me with bitter blame