The Ballade Of The Mistletoe Bough
I am standing under the mistletoe, And I smile, but no answering smile replies For her haughty glance bids me plainly know That not for me is the thing I prize; Instead, from her
Song For Heroes
Captain O’Hare was a mariner brave; He refused to abandon his ship; A hero, he sleeps in a watery grave- And his widow is now Mrs. Bipp, Haw! Haw! His widow is now Mrs.
To Jessica, Gone Back To The City
Sence fair Jessica hez left us Seems ez ef she hed bereft us, When she went, o’ half o’ livin’; Fer we never knowed she’d driven Into us so much content, Till fair Jessica
The Cut Finger
THE GOSSOON [Weeping] It’s bleedin’! It’s bleedin’! THE OULD WOMAN [Soothingly] An’ shure, me lad, ‘t is bleedin’; But come, me hearty laddy buck, be brave an’ do not cry; A lad that’s learnin’
When Ida Puts Her Armor On
The Cowboy had a sterling heart, The Maiden was from Boston, The Rancher saw his wealth depart- The Steers were what he lost on. The Villain was a banker’s limb, His spats and cane
Millennium
The great millennium is at hand. Redder apples grow on the tree. A saxophone is in ev’ry band. Brandy no longer taints our tea. Dimples smile in the red-rouged knee. The dowagers are no
The Tearful Tale Of Captain Dan
A sinner was old Captain Dan; His wives guv him no rest: He had one wife to East Skiddaw And one to Skiddaw West. Now Ann Eliza was the name Of her at East
To Lovers
Ho, ye lovers, list to me; Warning words have I for thee: Give ye heed, hefore ye wed, To this thing Sir Chaucer said: “Love wol not be constrained by maistrie, When maistrie cometh,
A Minute
She plucked a blossom fair to see; Upon my coat I let her pin it; And thus we stood beneath the tree A minute. She turned her smiling face to me; I saw a
The Twenty Hoss-Power Shay
You have heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day. And then, of a sudden, it up and bust, And
Reasonable Interest
I want to know how Bernard Shaw Likes beefsteak-fairly done, or raw? I want to know what kinds of shoes M. Maeterlinck and Howells use. I have great curiosity Regarding George Ade’s new boot
A Question
Whene’er I feed the barnyard folk My gentle soul is vexed; My sensibilities are torn And I am sore perplexed. The rooster so politely stands While waiting for his food, But when I feed
Ridden Down
When I taught Ida how to ride a Bicycle that night, I ran beside her, just to guide her Erring wheel aright; And many times there in the street She rode upon my weary
New England Magazine
Upon Bottle Miche the autre day While yet the nuit was early, Je met a homme whose barbe was grey, Whose cheveaux long and curly. “Je am a poete, sir,” dit he, “Je live
The Golf Walk
Behold, my child, this touching scene, The golfer on the golfing-green; Pray mark his legs’ uncanny swing, The golf-walk is a gruesome thing! See how his arms and shoulders ride Above his legs in