W. H. Davies

“ In fact I have found Fame to be the most amusing companion I have ever had. She has placed me in such a position that I am now regarded as a liar, a miser, and a woman-hater. I am considered to be a liar by those who have read so much about my work, and who at last begin to doubt when I say that Fame in England does not pay so good as begging in America, and that a very small income of my own supports me. ”

“ How birds would rather sing than eat, How joyful sheep would rather bleat: And daffodils nod heads of gold, And dance in April's sparkling cold. So in our early love did we Dance much and skip, and laugh with glee: But let none think our love is flown If, when we're married, little's shown: E'en though our lips be dumb of song, Our hearts can still be singing strong.
LIFE IS JOLLY This life is jolly, O! I envy no man's lot; My eyes can much admire, And still my heart crave not; There's no true joy in gold, It breeds desire for more; Whatever wealth man has, Desire can keep him poor. ”

“ I can well understand a man screaming, trembling and crying for mercy, when actually enduring bodily pain, but that one should show such a terror at the thought of it, filled me more with disgust than pity. That this prisoner should have been so brutal and unfeeling in inflicting pain on another, and should now show so much cowardice in anticipation of receiving punishment inadequate to his offence, dried in me the milk of human kindness, and banished my first thoughts, which had been to escape this horrible scene without witnessing its end. ”

“ To a true beggar the workhouse tramp is a mystery. The former cannot understand how the latter can perform such stone-breaking feats on a bread-and-water diet, and he wonders where lies the fascination of such a life. He, himself, though he may rise penniless in the morning, has confidence in the day's fulfilment, and he sometimes meets with a surprise in the shape of a piece of silver. ”

“ Man is a bird: In swiftest speed he burns, With twist and dive and leap; A bird whose sudden turns Can drive the frightened sheep. Man is a bird: Over the mountain high, Whose head is in the skies, Cut from its shoulder by A cloud—the bird-man flies. Man is a bird: Eagles from mountain crag Swooped down to prove his worth; But now they rise to drag Him down from Heaven to earth!
WINTER'S BEAUTY Is it not fine to walk in spring, When leaves are born, and hear birds sing? And when they lose their singing powers, In summer, watch the bees at flowers? ”

“ It was now the middle of Summer, and daily I sat dreaming, reading, and occasionally writing in a leafy bower in the garden. I could now dispense with crutches, having just received from London an artificial limb, and on this was practising, taking short walks at night, with a success that was gratifying. A far different Klondyke had opened up before my eyes, which corresponded with the dreams of my youth. I pictured myself returning home, not with gold nuggets from the far West, but with literary fame, wrested from no less a place than the mighty London. ”

“ I find thee, Joy, in hours With clouds, and birds, and flowers— Thou dost not charge one penny. Joy, I have found thee!
THE OLD OAK TREE I sit beneath your leaves, old oak, You mighty one of all the trees; Within whose hollow trunk a man Could stable his big horse with ease. I see your knuckles hard and strong, But have no fear they'll come to blows; Your life is long, and mine is short, But which has known the greater woes? Thou has not seen starved women here, Or man gone mad because ill-fed— Who stares at stones in city streets, Mistaking them for hunks of bread. ”