One fond embrace and then we part!
Good—by, my lover, good-by!
And yet it is a gentle art,
Which nobody can deny.
Occasionally
Now and then there's a couple whose conjugal life
Is happy as happy can be;
Now and then there's a man who believes that his wife
Is the One Unsurpassable She;
There are doubtless in England a great many folks
Whose humour is airy and sage;
But there never is one in American jokes
Or on the American stage
Now and then there's an auto that doesn't break down,
Or an angler who catches some fish;
Now and then there's a pretty society gown
Or a girl that breaks never a dish;
There is haply a Croesus who isn't a hoax.
Or a jest that's not hoary with age;
But there never is one in American jokes
Or on the American stage.
Now and then there's a poet with closely cropped hair,
Or a sporting man quiet in dress;
Now and then there's a lady from Boston who's fair,
Now and then there's a fetterless press;
Now and then there's a laugh that a jester may coax,
A librettist may put on his page—
But they're terribly rare in American jokes,
And—oh, the American stage!
Jim and Bill
Bill Jones was cynical and sad;
He thought sincerity was rare;
Most people, Bill believed, were bad
And few were fair.
He said that cheating was the rule;
That nearly everything was fake;
That nearly all, both knave and fool,
Were on the make.
Jim Brown was cheerful as the sun;
He thought the world a lovely place,
Exhibiting to every one
A smiling face.
He thought that every man was fair;
He had no cause to sob or sigh;
He said that everything was square
As any die.