Women is strange. You take my tip; I’m wise. I know enough to know I'll never know The ’uman female mind ... - C. J. Dennis

Oh, to be in England Now that Summer’s there!
For who plays the Game in England Is each morning well aware
That the cricket-pitch is water-logged,
And the in-field’s wet and the out-field’s bogged: For it’s surely raining, anyhow, In England—now!

Love is a gamble, an' there ain't no certs.

I sometimes think stone is too precious truly, Bronze far too permanent for human clods
Whom men rush in to celebrate unduly: Immortal stuff is for immortal gods
Carved by great artists. Let the celebration Of men be in such stuff as may be pulped;
Reserve the rock for glorious inspiration: Venus to pose, to sculpt.