Edmund Vance Cooke
Edmund Vance Cooke Poems
- Rags We called him 'Rags.' He was just a cur, But twice, on ...
- How Did You Die? Did you tackle that trouble that came your ...
- Moo Cow Moo My papa held me up to the Moo Cow Moo So close I...
- Laugh A Little Bit Here's a motto, just your fit-- Laugh a ...
- Don'T Take Your Troubles To Be... You may labor your fill, ...
- Poetry 'A Triplet of Quatrains.' To deftly do what many ...
- Kisses Kisses kept are wasted; Love is to be tasted. ...
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Comments about Edmund Vance Cooke
We called him 'Rags.' He was just a cur,
But twice, on the Western Line,
That little old bunch of faithful fur
Had offered his life for mine.
And all that he got was bones and bread,
Or the leavings of soldier grub,
But he'd give his heart for a pat on the head,
Or a friendly tickle and rub
And Rags got home with the regiment,
And then, in the breaking away-
Well, whether they stole him, or whether he went,
I am not prepared to say.
But we mustered out, some to beer and gruel
And some to sherry and shad,
And I went back to the Sawbones ...