Gentle Jone (Edwin Waugh Poems)
I seed a thowtful chap one day,His face were mild, his topping grey;Wi' wanderin' fuut he went astray, ...
I seed a thowtful chap one day,His face were mild, his topping grey;Wi' wanderin' fuut he went astray, ...
When the night winds blow in from the open sea,And darkness sifts down in the busy street,That's always the lonesomest ...
The smell of arnica is strong, And mother's time is spentIn rubbing father's arms and back With burning ...
Oh, the lives of men, lives of men, In pattern-molds be run; But there's you, and me, and Bindlestiff- And ...
II lie upon my bed and hear and see.The moon is rising through the glistening trees;And momently a great and ...
Devine came back the other day. We'd planned a great home-comin'. No long trombone we had to play, ...
John Company's ships, they sailed the seas —The Merchant's Hope and the Trade's Increase ,Globe and Dragon and Hector too,Thames ...
Three years ago to-dayWe raised our hands to heaven,And on the rolls of musterOur names were thirty-seven;There were just a ...
He limped into the place one day, a leg and arm were gone, "Just half a man," he told the ...
There's a bump on his brow and a smear on his cheek That is plainly the stain of his tears;At ...
Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the happy days that followed, In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant ...
Midas watched the golden crust That formed over his steaming sores, Hugged his agues, loved his lust, But damned to ...
1919 As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, Make my proper prostrations to the Gods of ...
In the mid August, in the second year of my First Polar Expedition, the snow and ice of winter almost ...
AN IDYLL Back from the Somme two Fusiliers Limped painfully home; the elder said, S. "Robert, I've lived three thousand ...
Who shall sing a simple ditty about the Willow, Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray That dandles high the ...
'Your eyes that once were never weary of mine Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids, Because our love is ...
"Yes, LAURA, yes, pure as the virgin snow's "That on the bosom of the whirlwind move,, "For thee my faithful ...
O'Leary was a poet-for a while: He sang of many ladies frail and fair, The rolling glory of their golden ...
With never a sound of trumpet, With never a flag displayed, The last of the old campaigners Lined up for ...
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares ...
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