"Why?" Because all I haply can and do, All that I am now, all I hope to be, Whence comes it save from fortune setting free Body and soul the purpose to pursue, God traced for both? If fetters, not a few,...
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice. My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness. I, the unloving, say life should be lovely. I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness. ...
Some act of Love's bound to reherse, I thought to bind him, in my verse: Which when he felt, Away (quoth he) Can Poets hope to fetter me? It is enough, they once did get...
"Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings Dull, flagging notes that with each other jar?" "Think, gentle Lady, of a Harp so far From its own country, and forgive the strings."...
Why, my heart, do we love her so? (Geraldine, Geraldine!) Why does the great sea ebb and flow? - Why does the round world spin? Geraldine, Geraldine, Bid me my life renew:...
Why should I care for the men of thames Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams Or shrink at the little blasts of fear That the hireling blows into my ear
Why should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher's wrist Turn to a drunken journalist; A girl that knew all Dante once Live to bear children to a dunce;...
Why should the Enthusiast, journeying through this Isle Repine as if his hour were come too late? Not unprotected in her mouldering state, Antiquity salutes him with a smile,...
Why should we sigh o'er a summer that's dead - Let us think of the summer to be. It always better to look ahead, For the rose will come again just as red And just as fair to see. ...
The Spring is gone. I have not seen Its fairies tripping on the Block, Arcadians in grey and green, The happy flapper in a frock So dainty that the breezes fret It like the smoke of cigarette. ...
The Boastful Crow and the Laughing Jack Were telling tales of the outer back: "I've just been travelling far and wide, At the back of Bourke and the Queensland side; There isn't a bird in the bush can go...
In days gone by, when cows could fly And goblins rode on bears; When fairies danced upon the green And giants moped in lairs, There lived alone upon a shelf A tinsie, winsie little elf. ...
In youth I dreamed, as other youths have dreamt, Of love, and thrummed an amateur guitar To verses of my own,--a stout attempt To hold communion with the Evening Star...