Going Home
I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty ain’t I glad to ‘ave the chance! I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I’ve ‘ad my fill o’ France; I’m feelin’ so excited-like, I want to sing and dance,
The Cremation Of Sam McGee
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have
The Argument
Said Jock McBrown to Tam McSmith, “A little bet I’m game to take on, That I can scotch this Shakespeare myth And prove Will just a stoodge for Bacon.” Said Tam McSmith to Jock
Poor Cock Robin
My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple tree; His melodies the summer long He carolled with delight, As if he could
The Ballad Of Lenin's Tomb
This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey’s Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from the jug In the Land of the Crimson Star; That Soviet guy with the single
Pavement Poet
God’s truth! these be the bitter times. In vain I sing my sheaf of rhymes, And hold my battered hat for dimes. And then a copper collars me, Barking: “It’s begging that you be;
Trixie
Dogs have a sense beyond our ken – At least my little Trixie had: Tail-wagging when I laughed, and when I sighed, eyes luminously sad. And if I planned to go away, She’d know,
Canine Conversation
If dogs could speak, O Mademoiselle, What funny stories they could tell! For instance, take your little “peke,” How awkward if the dear could speak! How sad for you and all of us, Who
The Ballad Of Hard-Luck Henry
Now wouldn’t you expect to find a man an awful crank That’s staked out nigh three hundred claims, and every one a blank; That’s followed every fool stampede, and seen the rise and fall
Mc'Clusky's Nell
In Mike Maloney’s Nugget bar the hooch was flowin’ free, An’ One-eyed Mike was shakin’ dice wi’ Montreal Maree, An roarin’ rageful warning when the boys got overwild, When peekin’ through the double door
Why?
He was our leader and our guide; He was our saviour and our star. We walked in friendship by his side, Yet set him where our heroes are. He taught disdain of fame and
The Black Sheep
“The aristocratic ne’er-do-well in Canada frequently finds his way Into the ranks of the Royal North-West Mounted Police.” Extract. Hark to the ewe that bore him: “What has muddied the strain? Never his brothers
The Ballad Of One-Eyed Mike
This is the tale that was told to me by the man with the crystal eye, As I smoked my pipe in the camp-fire light, and the Glories swept the sky; As the Northlights
Adoption
Because I was a woman lone And had of friends so few, I made two little ones my own, Whose parents no one knew; Unwanted foundlings of the night, Left at the convent door,
The Song Of The Pacifist
What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead? Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed? By the cheers