Once there was a man who loved himself very much, and who permitted himself no rivals in that love. He thought his face and figure the handsomest in all the world. Anything in the shape of a mirror that could show him his own l...
Impertinent, we tease and weary Heaven With prayers which would insult mere mortals even. 'Twould seem that not a god in all the skies From our affairs must ever turn his eyes,...
Oh the wife she tried to tell me that 'twas nothing but the thrumming Of a wood-pecker a-rapping on the hollow of a tree; And she thought that I was fooling when I said it was the drumming...
He's the man from Eldorado, and he's just arrived in town, In moccasins and oily buckskin shirt. He's gaunt as any Indian, and pretty nigh as brown; He's greasy, and he smells of sweat and dirt....
It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town, He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down. He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop,...
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around That the colt from Old Regret had got away, And had joined the wild bush horses, he was worth a thousand pound,...
He stood among a crowd at Dromahair; His heart hung all upon a silken dress, And he had known at last some tenderness, Before earth took him to her stony care; But when a man poured fish into a pile,...
Who joins not with his restless race To give Dame Fortune eager chase? O, had I but some lofty perch, From which to view the panting crowd Of care-worn dreamers, poor and proud,...
I would I were in some spot whence I could watch the eager crowds rushing from kingdom to kingdom in their vain chase after the daughter of Chance! ...
The bold Marine comes back from war, So kind: The bold Marine comes back from war, So kind: With a raggety coat and a worn-out shoe. "Now, poor Marine, say, whence come you,...
I found me in a great surging space, At either end a door, And I said: "What is this giddying place, With no firm-fixed floor, That I knew not of before?" "It is Life," said a mask-clad face. ...
If souls could sing to heaven's high King As blackbirds pipe on earth, How those delicious courts would ring With gusts of lovely mirth! What white-robed throng could lift a song...