Two Graves
First Ghost To sepulcher my mouldy bones I bough a pile of noble stones, And half a year a sculptor spent To hew my marble monument, The stateliest to rear its head In all
May Miracle
On this festive first of May, Wending wistfully my way Three sad sights I saw today. The first was such a lovely lad He lit with grace the sordid street; Yet in a monk’s
Winnie
When I went by the meadow gate The chestnut mare would trot to meet me, And as her coming I would wait, She’d whinney high as if to greet me. And I would kiss
Three Wives
Said Jones: “I’m glad my wife’s not clever; Her intellect is second-rate. If she was witty she would never Give me a chance to scintillate; But cap my humorous endeavour And make me seem
Cardiac
A mattock high he swung; I watched him at his toil; With never gulp of lung He gashed the ruddy soil. Thought I, I’d give my wealth To have his health. With fortune I
The Portrait
The portrait there above my bed They tell me is a work of art; My Wife, since twenty years she’s dead: Her going nearly broke my heart. Alas! No little ones we had To
Perfection
If I could practise what I preach, Of fellows there would few be finer; If I were true to what I teach My life would be a lot diviner. If I would act the
Confetti In The Wind
He wrote a letter in his mind To answer one a maid had sent; He sought the fitting word to find, As on by hill and rill he went. By bluebell wood and hawthorn
Florrie
Because I was a wonton wild And welcomed many a lover, Who is the father of my child I wish I could discover. For though I know it is not right In tender arms
Decorations
My only medals are the scars I’ve won in weary, peacetime wars, A-fighting for my little brood, To win them shelter, shoon and food; But most of all to give them faith In God’s
My Madonna
I haled me a woman from the street, Shameless, but, oh, so fair! I bade her sit in the model’s seat And I painted her sitting there. I hid all trace of her heart
Clancy Of The Mounted Police
In the little Crimson Manual it’s written plain and clear That who would wear the scarlet coat shall say good-bye to fear; Shall be a guardian of the right, a sleuth-hound of the trail
Expectation
My flask of wine was ruby red And swift I ran my sweet to see; With eyes that snapped delight I said: “How mad with love a lad can be!” The moon was laughing
The World's All Right
Be honest, kindly, simple, true; Seek good in all, scorn but pretence; Whatever sorrow come to you, Believe in Life’s Beneficence! The World’s all right; serene I sit, And cease to puzzle over it.
My Tails
I haven’t worn my evening dress For nearly twenty years; Oh I’m unsocial, I confess, A hermit, it appears. So much moth-balled it’s but away, And though wee wifie wails, Never unto my dimmest