Vulgar words in Ballads of a Bohemian (Page 1)
This book at a glance
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CONTENTS Prelude BOOK ONE SPRING I My Garret Julot the _Apache_ II _L'Escargot D'Or_ It Is Later Than You Think Noctambule III Insomnia Moon Song The Sewing-Girl IV Lucille On the Boulevard Facility V Golden Days The Joy of Little Things The Absinthe Drinkers BOOK TWO EARLY SUMMER I The Release The Wee Shop The Philistine and the Bohemian II The Bohemian Dreams A Domestic Tragedy The Pencil Seller III Fi-Fi in Bed Gods in the Gutter The Death of Marie Toro IV The Bohemian The Auction Sale The Joy of Being Poor V My Neighbors Room 4: The Painter Chap Room 6: The Little Workgirl Room 5: The Concert Singer Room 7: The Coco-Fiend BOOK THREE LATE SUMMER I The Philanderer The _Petit Vieux_ My Masterpiece My Book My Hour II A Song of Sixty-Five Teddy Bear The Outlaw The Walkers III Poor Peter The Wistful One If You Had a Friend The Contented Man The Spirit of the Unborn Babe IV Finistère Old David Smail The Wonderer Oh, It Is Good V I Have Some Friends The Quest The Comforter The Other One Catastrophe BOOK FOUR WINTER I Priscilla A Casualty The Blood-Red _Fourragère_ Jim II Kelly of the Legion The Three Tommies The Twa Jocks III His Boys The Booby-Trap Bonehead Bill IV A Lapse of Time and a Word of Explanation Michael The Wife Victory Stuff Was It You?
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For it was a foreign Prince's whim to collect this tiny cuss, And a golden quid was no more to him than a copper to coves like us.
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For you'll never know in that land of snow how lonesome a man can feel; So I made a fuss of the little cuss, and I christened it "Lucille".
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So I shook my head, and I glumly said: "Gol darn the saucy cuss!
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Swift he gazed in his looking-glass, Made a grimace and murmured: "Ass!"
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He thought her a bore, she thought him an ass.
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Oh, Wilde, Verlaine and Baudelaire, their lips were wet with wine; Oh poseur, pimp and libertine!
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A week ago she roamed the street, a draggle and a slut, A by-word of the Boulevard and everybody's butt; A week ago she haunted us, we heard her whining cry, We brushed aside the broken blooms she pestered us to buy; A week ago she had not where to rest her weary head...
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My Neighbors _To rest my fagged brain now and then, When wearied of my proper labors, I lay aside my lagging pen And get to thinking on my neighbors; For, oh, around my garret den There's woe and poverty a-plenty, And life's so interesting when A lad is only two-and-twenty.
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They never make love to Babette.
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Strange stars swarm down to burn above me, Strange shadows haunt, strange voices greet; Strange women lure and laugh and love me, And fling their bastards at my feet.
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Read this: Bonehead Bill I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick.
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And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, _My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night._ Now, I don't claim to understand-- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to kill.