My Typewriter (Robert William Service Poems)
I used to think a pot of ink Held magic in its fluid, And I would ply a pen when ...
I used to think a pot of ink Held magic in its fluid, And I would ply a pen when ...
You've heard of "Casey at The Bat," And "Casey's Tabble Dote"; But now it's time To write a rhyme Of ...
The porter in the Pullman car Was charming, as they sometimes are. He scanned my baggage tags: "Are you The ...
Oh, it's pleasant sitting here, Seeing all the people pass; You beside your bock of beer, I behind my demi-tasse. ...
She'd bring to me a skein of wool And beg me to hold out my hands; so on my pipe ...
How often have I started out With no thought in my noodle, And wandered here and there about, Where fancy ...
My poem may be yours indeed In melody and tone, If in its rhythm you can read A music of ...
While I make rhymes my brother John Makes shiny shoes which dames try on, And finding to their fit and ...
I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone ...
Of Poetry I've been accused, But much more often I have not; Oh, I have been so much amused By ...
At school I never gained a prize, Proving myself the model ass; Yet how I watched the wistful eyes, And ...
They say that rhyme and rhythm are Outmoded now. I do not know, for I am far From high of ...
Of bosom friends I've had but seven, Despite my years are ripe; I hope they're now enjoying Heaven, Although they're ...
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