Off Santa Cruz the western wave Was crimson as with blood: The sun was sinking to his grave Beneath that angry flood. Sir Walter Turnbull, brave and st…

The trumpet sounded and the dead Came forth from earth and ocean, And Pickering arose and sped Aloft with wobbling motion. ‘What makes him fly lop-sided?’ cr…

Oft from a trading-boat I purchas… And shells and corals, brought for… From the fair tropics-paid a Chri… And was content in my fool’s parad… Where never had been heard the wor…

Successive bards pursue Ambition’… That shines, Oblivion, above thy… The latest mounts his predecessor’… And sinks his brother ere himself… So die ingloriously Fame’s _elite…

Dawn heralded the coming sun Fort Douglas was computing The minutes-and the sunrise gun Was manned for his saluting. The gunner at that firearm stood,

Mrs. Mehitable Marcia Moore Was a dame of superior mind, With a gown which, modestly fittin… Was greatly puffed up behind. The bustle she wore was ingeniousl…

The way was long, the hill was ste… My footing scarcely I could keep. The night enshrouded me in gloom, I heard the ocean’s distant boom The trampling of the surges vast

You say, John Irish, Mr. Taylor… A painted beard. Quite likely tha… And sure 'tis natural you spend yo… On what has been least merciful to… By Taylor’s chin, if I am not mis…

I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an’ free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn’t much

I dreamed that Gabriel took his h… On Resurrection’s fateful morn, And lighting upon Laurel Hill Blew long, blew loud, blew high an… The houses compassing the ground

Dull were the days and sober, The mountains were brown and bare, For the season was sad October And a dirge was in the air. The mated starlings flew over

Good friend, it is with deep regre… The latest, strangest turning of y… Though any way you wear that menta… The seamy side seems always to be… Who could have thought that you wo…

Alas, alas, for the tourist’s guid… He turned from the beaten trail as… Wandered bewildered, lay down and… O grim is the Irony of Fate: It switches the man of low estate

What! ‘Out of danger?’ Can the sl… Or canting Pharisee no more defam… Will Treachery caress my hand no… Nor Hatred He alurk about my door… Ingratitude, with benefits dismiss…

Great poets fire the world with fa… That make a crackling racket, But I’m content with but a whispe… To warm some single jacket.