Away, away! The plains of Ind Have set their victim free; I give my sorrows to the wind, My sun-hat to the sea; And, standing with a chosen few, I watch a dying glow, The passing of the Finest View...
I am tired of the day with its profitless labours, And tired of the night with its lack of repose, I am sick of myself, my surroundings, and neighbours,...
So for the last great Hockey of the Hills, - Damsel v. Dame - by ruder cynics called The Tournament of the Dead Dignities, We gained the lists, and I, thro' humorous lens,...
There's a little lake that lies In a valley, where the skies Kiss the mountains, as they rise, On the crown; And the heaven-born 'lite Are accustomed to retreat From the pestilential heat...
Once for a tight little Island, fonder of ha'pence than kicks, Rud., a maker of verses, sang of an Empire of Bricks, Sang of the Sons of that Empire - told them they came of the Blood -...
A strong discomfort in the dress Dwindling the clothes to nothingness Saving, for due decorum placed, A huckaback about the waist, Or wanton towel-et, whose touch...
Now the busy screw is churning, Now the horrid sirens blow; Now are India's guests returning Home from India's Greatest Show; Now the gleeful Asiatic Speeds them on their wild career,...
It is told, in Buddhi-theosophic Schools There are rules By observing which when mundane matter irks, Or the world has gone amiss, you Can incontinently issue From the circumscribing tissue...