The Bees and the Flies
“The Mother Hive” Actions and Reactions A Farmer of the Augustan Age Perused in Virgil’s golden page The story of the secret won From Proteus by Cyrene’s son How the dank sea-god showed the
Seven Watchmen
1918 SEVEN Watchmen sitting in a tower, Watching what had come upon mankind, Showed the Man the Glory and the Power, And bade him shape the Kingdom to his mind. “All things on Earth
The Legend of Evil
I This is the sorrowful story Told when the twilight fails And the monkeys walk together Holding their neighbours’ tails: “Our fathers lived in the forest, Foolish people were they, They went down to
The Wishing-Caps
Life’s all getting and giving, I’ve only myself to give. What shall I do for a living? I’ve only one life to live. End it? I’ll not find another. Spend it? But how shall
The Lowestoft Boat
In Lowestoft a boat was laid, Mark well what I do say! And she was built for the herring-trade, But she has gone a-rovin’, a-rovin’, a-rovin’, The Lord knows where! They gave her Government
The First Chantey
1896 Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her: Haling her dumb from the camp, held her and bound her. Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Ulster
The dark eleventh hour Draws on and sees us sold To every evil power We fought against of old. Rebellion, rapine hate Oppression, wrong and greed Are loosed to rule our fate, By England’s
The Man Who Could Write
Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen, Is a dismal failure is a Might-have-been. In a luckless moment he discovered men Rise to high position through a ready pen. Boanerges Blitzen argued therefore “I, With
A British-Roman Song
(A. D. 406) “A Centurion of the Thirtieth” Puck of Pook’s Hill My father’s father saw it not, And I, belike, shall never come To look on that so-holly spot That very Rome Crowned
Tommy
I went into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’ beer, The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.” The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
The Fires
Men make them fires on the hearth Each under his roof-tree, And the Four Winds that rule the earth They blow the smoke to me. Across the high hills and the sea And all
The Betrothed
“You must choose between me and your cigar.” BREACH OF PROMISE CASE, CIRCA 1885. Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
The Bell Buoy
1896 They christened my brother of old And a saintly name he bears They gave him his place to hold At the head of the belfry-stairs, Where the minister-towers stand And the breeding kestrels
The Settler
1903 (South African War ended, May, 1902) Here, where my fresh-turned furrows run, And the deep soil glistens red, I will repair the wrong that was done To the living and the dead. Here,
The Heritage
Our Fathers in a wondrous age, Ere yet the Earth was small, Ensured to us a heritage, And doubted not at all That we the children of their heart, Which then did beat so