Franklin Pierce Adams

[F.P.A.] (15 November 1881 – 23 March 1960 / Chicago, Illinois)

Franklin Pierce Adams Poems

1. A Ballad Of Baseball Burdens 1/3/2003
2. A Gotham Garden Of Verses 1/3/2003
3. A Lament 1/3/2003
4. A New York Child's Garden Of Verses 3/30/2012
5. A Perfect Woman Nobly Planned 3/30/2012
6. A Plea 3/30/2012
7. A Poor Excuse, But Our Own 3/30/2012
8. A Psalm Of Labouring Life 1/3/2003
9. A Quatrain 3/30/2012
10. A Soft Susurrus 3/30/2012
11. A Summer Summary 3/30/2012
12. A Wish 3/30/2012
13. A Word For It 3/30/2012
14. Abelard And Heloïse 1/3/2003
15. Advice 3/30/2012
16. Advising Chloë 1/3/2003
17. After Hearing Robin Hood 1/3/2003
18. Again Endorsing The Lady 1/3/2003
19. Again Endorsing The Lady, Ii 1/3/2003
20. An Election Night Pantoum 3/30/2012
21. An Ode In Time Of Inauguration 1/3/2003
22. An Ultimatum To Myrtilla 3/30/2012
23. And Yet It Is A Gentle Art 3/30/2012
24. Ballade Of Ancient Acts 1/3/2003
25. Ballade Of The Breakfast Table 3/30/2012
26. Ballade Of The Hardy Annual 3/30/2012
27. Ballade Of The Traffickers 1/3/2003
28. Baseball's Sad Lexicon 1/3/2003
29. Bedbooks 3/30/2012
30. Bon Voyage - And Vice Versa 1/3/2003
31. Broadmindedness 1/3/2003
32. 'Carpe Diem,' Or Cop The Day 3/30/2012
33. Despite 1/3/2003
34. Fifty-Fifty 1/3/2003
35. Fragment 1/3/2003
36. From: Horace To: Phyllis Subject: Invitation 1/3/2003
37. Georgie Porgie 1/3/2003
38. Glycera Rediviva 1/3/2003
39. Help 3/30/2012
40. His Monument 1/3/2003

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Best Poem of Franklin Pierce Adams

A Psalm Of Labouring Life

Tell me not, in doctored numbers,
Life is but a name for work!
For the labour that encumbers
Me I wish that I could shirk.

Life is phony! Life is rotten!
And the wealthy have no soul;
Why should you be picking cotton,
Why should I be mining coal?

Not employment and not sorrow
Is my destined end or way;
But to act that each tomorrow
Finds me idler than today.

Work is long, and plutes are lunching;
Money is the thing I crave;
But my heart continues punching
Funeral time-clocks to the grave.

In the world's uneven battle, ...

Read the full of A Psalm Of Labouring Life


We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable--
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hilltop underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry,

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