bell notificationshomepageloginedit profileclubsdmBox

Read Ebook: Something Else Again by Adams Franklin P Franklin Pierce

More about this book

Font size:

Background color:

Text color:

Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page

Ebook has 337 lines and 15501 words, and 7 pages

Regarding the U. S. and New York

And--although Middle-Western born-- Before I was a travelled guy, I laughed at, with unhidden scorn, All cities but New York, N. Y.

But now I've been about a bit-- How travel broadens! How it does! And I have found out this, to wit: How right I was! How right I was!

Broadmindedness

How narrow his vision, how cribbed and confined! How prejudiced all of his views! How hard is the shell of his bigoted mind! How difficult he to excuse!

The Jazzy Bard

Labor is a thing I do not like; Workin's makes me want to go on strike; Sittin' in an office on a sunny afternoon, Thinkin' o' nothin' but a ragtime tune.

'Cause I got the blues, I said I got the blues, I got the paragraphic blues. Been a-sittin' here since ha' pas' ten, Bitin' a hole in my fountain pen; Brain's all stiff in the creakin' joints, Can't make up no wheezes on the Fourteen Points; Can't think o' nothin' 'bout the end o' booze, 'Cause I got the para--, I said the paragraphic, I mean the column conductin' blues.

Lines on and from "Bartlett's Familiar Quotations"

Books cannot always please, however good; The good is oft interred with their bones. To be great is to be misunderstood, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans.

The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ, I never write as funny as I can. Remote, unfriended, studious let me sit And say to all the world, "This was a man!"

Go, lovely Rose that lives its little hour! Go, little booke! and let who will be clever! Roll on! From yonder ivy-mantled tower The moon and I could keep this up forever.

Thoughts in a Far Country

I rise and applaud, in the patriot manner, Whenever I hear The palpitant strains of "The Star Spangled Banner,"-- I shout and cheer.

And also, to show my unbounded devotion, I jump to me feet with a "Whee!" Whenever "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean" Is played near me.

My fervour's so hot and my ardour so searing-- I'm hoarse for a couple of days-- You've heard me, I'm positive, joyously cheering "The Marseillaise."

I holler for "Dixie." I go off my noodle, I whistle, I pound, and I stamp Whenever an orchestra plays "Yankee Doodle," Or "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp."

But if you would enter my confidence, Reader, Know that I'd go clean off my dome, And madly embrace any orchestra leader For "Home, Sweet Home."

When You Meet a Man from Your Own Home Town

Sing, O Muse, in the treble clef, A little song of the A. E. F., And pardon me, please, if I give vent To something akin to sentiment. But we have our moments Over Here When we want to cry and we want to cheer; And the hurrah feeling will not down When you meet a man from your own home town.

You may be among the enlisted men, You may be a Lieut. or a Major-Gen.; Your home may be up in the Chilkoot Pass, In Denver, Col., or in Pittsfield, Mass.; You may have come from Chicago, Ill., Buffalo, Portland, or Louisville-- But there's nothing, I'm gambling, can keep you down, When you meet a man from your own home town.

If you want to know why I wrote this pome, Well ... I've just had a talk with a guy from home.

The Shepherd's Resolution

--WITHER.

I don't care if a girl is fair If she doesn't seem beautiful to me, I won't waste away if she's fair as day, Or prettier than meadows in the month of May; As long as you are there for me to see, I don't care and you don't care How many others are beyond compare-- You're the only one I like to have around.

I won't mind if she's everything combined, If she doesn't seem wonderful to me, I won't fret if she's everybody's pet, Or considered by all as the one best bet; As long as you and I are only we, I don't care and you don't care How many others are beyond compare, You're the only one I like to have around.

"It Was a Famous Victory"

It was a summer evening; Old Kaspar was at home, Sitting before his cottage door-- Like in the Southey pome-- And near him, with a magazine, Idled his grandchild, Geraldine.

"Why don't you ask me," Kaspar said To the child upon the floor, "Why don't you ask me what I did When I was in the war? They told me that each little kid Would surely ask me what I did.

"I've had my story ready For thirty years or more." "Don't bother, Grandpa," said the child; "I find such things a bore. Pray leave me to my magazine," Asserted little Geraldine.

Then entered little Peterkin, To whom his gaffer said: "You'd like to hear about the war? How I was left for dead?" "No. And, besides," declared the youth, "How do I know you speak the truth?"

Arose that wan, embittered man, The hero of this pome, And walked, with not unsprightly step, Down to the Soldiers' Home, Where he, with seven other men, Sat swapping lies till half-past ten.

On Profiteering

Although I hate A profiteer With unabat- Ed loathing; Though I detest The price they smear On pants and vest And clothing;

Yet I admit My meed of crime, Nor do one whit Regret it; I'd triple my Price for a rhyme, If I thought I Could get it.

Despite

The terrible things that the Governor Of Kansas says alarm me; And yet somehow we won the war In spite of the Regular Army.

The things they say of the old N. G. Are bitter and cruel and hard; And yet we walloped the enemy In spite of the National Guard.

Too late, too late, was our work begun; Too late were our forces sent; And yet we smeared the horrible Hun In spite of the President.

"What a frightful flivver this Baker is!" Cried many a Senator; And yet we handed the Kaiser his In spite of the Sec. of War.

A sadly incompetent, sinful crew Is that of the recent fight; And yet we put it across, we do, In spite of a lot of spite.

The Return of the Soldier

Lady, when I left you Ere I sailed the sea, Bitterly bereft you Told me you would be.

Frequently and often When I fought the foe, How my heart would soften, Pitying your woe!

Still, throughout my yearning, It was my belief That my mere returning Would annul your grief.

"I Remember, I Remember"

I remember, I remember-- My mother telling my cousin That eggs had gone to twenty-six Or seven cents a dozen; And how she told my father that She didn't like to speak Of things like that, but Bridget now Demanded four a week.

I remember, I remember-- And with a mirthless laugh-- My weekly board at college took A jump to three and a half. I bought an eighteen-dollar suit, And father told me, "Sonny, I'll pay the bill this time, but, Oh, I am not made of money!"

I remember, I remember, When I was young and brave And I declared, "Well, Birdie, we Shall now begin to save." It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from wealth Than when I was a boy.

The Higher Education

"Father," began the growing youth, "Your pleading finds me deaf; Although I know you speak the truth About the course at Shef. But think you that I have no pride, To follow such a trail? I cannot be identified With Princeton or with Yale."

Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page

 

Back to top