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WH Davies he was the boy wasn’t he. Dossed about all his life, shoplifted, jumped trains, wrote poetry. Just like me in my younger days, with the exception that his poetry was actually good and mine sucked monkey balls.

Anyhoo, here’s a sample or two of his poetry.

For starters here’s his most famous poem Leisure.

WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Corker or what?

Then we have, of a slightly more melancholy air, The Richest Stones
My wandering days have run their course,
And Age is in my flesh and bones:
Of all the temples, domes, and towers,
Where have I found the richest stones?

The little house where I was born,
And where my early childhood lies,
Was built with solid blocks of gold,
And all its walls had diamond eyes.

And yers a link to his collection Foliage at Project Gutenburg.