Page:Backblock Ballads and Later Verses (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/86



Oh, I'm sick of the whole darned human race, And I'm sick of this earthly ball; I'm sick of the sight of my brother's face, And his works and talk and all; I'm sick of the silly sounds I hear, I'm sick of the sights I see; Omar Khayyam he knew good cheer, And it's much the same with me.

Give me a bit of a bough to sit Beneath, and a book of rhyme, And a cuddlesome girl that sings a bit, But don't sing all the time; That's all I ask, and it's only just; For it's all that I hold dear— A bough and a book and a girl and a crust; That, and a jug of beer.