Precursor of our woes, historic sp… What dismal records burn upon thy… On thee I see the maculating stai… Of passengers’ commingled blood an… In this red rust a widow’s curse a…

It is a politician man He draweth near his end, And friends weep round that partis… Of every man the friend. Between the Known and the Unknown

When Dr. Bill Bartlett stepped o… Of Mammon’s distracting and weari… To stand and deliver a lecture on… Conditions of Intellectual Life,’ I cursed the offender who gave him…

Death, are you well? I trust you… That’s painful or in any way annoy… No kidney trouble that may carry y… Or heart disease to keep you from… Your meals-and ours. 'T were very…

The sullen church-bell’s intermitt… The dirge’s melancholy monotone, The measured march, the drooping f… A great man’s progress to his plac… Along broad avenues himself decree…

Now Lonergan appears upon the boa… And Truth and Error sheathe their… No more in wordy warfare to engage… The commentators bow before the st… And bookworms, militant for ages p…

That land full surely hastens to i… Where public sycophants in homage… The populace to flatter, and repea… The doubled echoes of its loud con… Lowly their attitude but high thei…

You promised to paint me a picture… Dear Mat, And I was to pay you in rhyme. Although I am loth to inflict you… Most easy of consciences, I’m

Twas a sick young man with a face… And an eye that was all alone; And he shook his head in a hopeles… As he sat on a roadside stone. ‘O, ailing youth, what untoward fa…

Well, James McMillan Shafter, yo… At least you were when last I kne… And if the people since have made… I did not notice it. I’ve much to… Without endeavoring to follow, thr…

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…

'By good men’s prayers see Grant… Shouts Talmage, pious creature! Yes, God, by supplication bored From every droning preacher, Exclaimed: 'So be it, tiresome cr…

It is pleasant to think, as I’m w… A-drying along my paper, That a monument fine will surely b… When death has extinguished my tap… From each rhyming scribe of the jo…

Cried Allen Forman: 'Doctor, pra… Compose my spirits’ strife: O what may be my chances, say, Of living all my life? ‘For lately I have dreamed of hig…