Escape
Tell me, Tramp, where I may go To be free from human woe; Say where I may hope to find Ease of heart and peace of mind; Is thee not some isle you know
Julie Claire
Oh Julie Claire was very fair, Yet generous as well, And many a lad of metal had A saucy tale to tell Of sultry squeeze beneath the trees Or hugging in the hay. .
Lucille
Of course you’ve heard of the Nancy Lee, and how she sailed away On her famous quest of the Arctic flea, to the wilds of Hudson’s Bay? For it was a foreign Prince’s whim
The Woman At The Gate
“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, I watched him
My Picture
I made a picture; all my heart I put in it, and all I knew Of canvas-cunning and of Art, Of tenderness and passion true. A worshipped Master came to see; Oh he was
Miss Mischievous
Miss Don’t-do-this and Don’t-do-that Has such a sunny smile You cannot help but chuckle at Her cuteness and her guile. Her locks are silken floss of gold, Her eyes are pansy blue: Maybe of
Learn To Like
School yourself to savour most Joys that have but little cost; Prove the best of life is free, Sun and stars and sky and sea; Eager in your eyes to please, Proffer meadows, brooks
My Neighbors
To rest my fagged brain now and then, When wearied of my proper labors, I lay aside my lagging pen And get to thinking on my neighbors; For, oh, around my garret den There’s
The Rover
Oh, how good it is to be Foot-loose and heart-free! Just my dog and pipe and I, underneath the vast sky; Trail to try and goal to win, white road and cool inn; Fields
Son
He hurried away, young heart of joy, under our Devon sky! And I watched him go, my beautiful boy, and a weary woman was I. For my hair is grey, and his was gold;
The Old General
Little Annabelle to please, (Lacking grace, I grant), Grandpa down on hands and knees Plays the elephant. Annabelle shrieks with delight, Bouncing up and down, On his back and holding tight To his dressing
The Philistine And The Bohemian
She was a Philistine spick and span, He was a bold Bohemian. She had the mode, and the last at that; He had a cape and a brigand hat. She was so riant and
Boon Soul
Behold! I’m old; my hair is white; My eighty years are in the offing, And sitting by the fire to-night I sip a grog to ease my coughing. It’s true I’m raucous as a
My Dog
‘Twas in a pub just off the Strand When I was in my cups, There passed a bloke with in his hand Two tiny puling pups; And one was on me with a bound,
The Alcázar
The General now lives in town; He’s eighty odd, they say; You’ll see him strolling up and down The Prada any day. He goes to every football game, The bull-ring knows his voice, And