The cymbals crash, And the dancers walk, With long white stockings And arms of chalk, Butterfly skirts, And white breasts bare, And…

‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the General said When we met him last week on our way to the line. Now the soldiers he smiled…

Thou hast committed— Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. I Among…

I went into a public-‘ouse to get a pint o’ beer, The publican ‘e up an’ sez, ‘We serve no red-coats here.’…

Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set. Whose…

In an upper room at midnight See us gathered on behalf Of love according to the gospel Of the radio-phonograph. Lou is…