Works

A Birdie cocked his little head,
Winked his eye at me and said,
"Say, are you a Pussy Willer,
Or just a Kitty-Catty pillar?"

I

|Scene|: A wayside shrine in France.

|Persons|: Celeste, Pierre, a Cloud.

|Celeste| (gazing at the solitary white Cloud):
I wonder what your thoughts are, little Cloud,...

I once drew Ibsen, looking bored
Across a deep Norwegian Fjord,
And very nearly every one
Mistook him for the midnight sun.

When Paderewski is forgot,
Our children's children, like as not,
Will worship in the Hall of Fame,
Some great piano-maker's name.

At evening when the lamp is lit,
The tired Human People sit
And doze, or turn with solemn looks
The speckled pages of their books.

Then I, the Dangerous Kitten, prowl...

This picture though it is not much
Like Zangwill, is not void of worth
It has one true Zangwillian touch
It looks like nothing else on earth.

Wake! for the Golden Cat has put to flight
The Mouse of Darkness with his Paw of Light:
Which means, in Plain and simple every-day
Unoriental Speech--The Dawn is bright.



...