[Day Dreams] (Alexander Bethune Poems)
'Again the sun is hot and high in heaven;The rustic sweats beneath the sultry ray;The idler seeks the shady walk; ...
'Again the sun is hot and high in heaven;The rustic sweats beneath the sultry ray;The idler seeks the shady walk; ...
_Hark! Hark!The dogs do bark!It's the socialists come to town,None in rags and none in tags,Swaggering up and down_.Sunday morning,And ...
It knocks me can in, this ere game uv life, A bloke gets born, grows up, looks round fer ...
A man's a mug. I've worked the 'ole thing out To-day, down in the orchard where I sat ...
Parson says I'm to make 'im a crossTo set up over his grave,'E's buried there by the Moated Grange,And I ...
Lo! where beside yon verdant plain Sweet Avon winds his way, And smiling laves thy rich demain, Sir Peter Rivers ...
When the woman suffrage argument first stood upon its legs, They answered it with cabbages, they answered it with eggs, ...
I am a boxer, who does not inflict blows on the air,but I hit hard and straight at my own ...
Mine Katrina,--So long since I write, You vill tink I am dead maybe yet; If I never ...
O, fellow Australians, listen, attend: We must cease our contemptuous swearingAnd cursing and sneering at Bull's colored friend, For our ...
Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plue Ven I get me dat letter you write, ...
Dis old vorld is von uncertain blace, Dere is so many tings ve don't know, Ven ve ...
I was the child that passed long hours away Chopping red beetroot in the hay-piled barn; Now must I spend ...
A CERTAIN pious rector (John his name), But little preached, except when vintage came; And then no preparation he required ...
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! It isn't fit for humans now, There isn't grass to graze a cow. ...
Omaha, Nebraska They do not sleep nights but stand between rows of glowing corn and cabbages grown on acres past ...
Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
I Let others sing of Empire and of pomp beyond the sea, A song of Little Puddleton is good enough ...
Zut! it's two o'clock. See! the lights are jumping. Finish up your bock, Time we all were humping. Waiters stack ...
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs but I've never seen wheat in a pile. Apples, potatoes, cabbages, ...
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