Poems by Robertson James
Cambridge
... -Servants that live on one, cramming their maw, -- But never a soul to love me!Right it should be so ...
Emeritus
... Right from the Bergschrund below it, Airing his wits There on the Spitz,Climber and scholar and poet ...
On Mixed Pupils
... easy careless pitchMake room (and be damned) for a new one to match, Chucked into the nearest ditch ...
Tristesse
... they that curled The lip in sight of her have dulled their earsTo wisdom's echoes in our under-world ...
