#Americans
You may say, if you please, Johnn… Are crazy to marry your dukes and… But I’ve heard that the maids of… Greet bachelor lords with a favori… Nay, titles, ‘tis said in defense…
A spitcat sate on a garden gate And a snapdog fared beneath; Careless and free was his mien, an… Held a fiddle-string in his teeth. She marked his march, she wrought…
Dudley, great placeman, man of mar… Worthy of honor from a feeble pen Blunted in service of all true, go… You serve the Lord-in courses, _t… Au, naturel,_ as well as _a la Ni…
The moon in the field of the keel-… Was watching the growing tide: A luminous peasant was driving his… And he offered my soul a ride. But I nourished a sorrow uncommon…
Filled with a zeal to serve my fel… For years I criticised their pros… Pointed out all their blunders of… Their shallowness of thought and f… Damned them up hill and down with…
Beauty (they called her) wasn’t a… Of many things in the world afraid… She wasn’t a maid who turned and f… At sight of a mouse, alive or dead… She wasn’t a maid a man could 'sho…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. _QUICK_: DE YOUNG _a Brother to Mushroo… _DEAD_: SWIFT _an Heirloom_
If the wicked gods were willing (Pray it never may be true!) That a universal chilling Should ensue Of the sentiment of loving,
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…
Mackay’s hot wrath to Bonynge, di… Of blows unnumbered, heavenly godd… That wrath which hurled to Hellma… Two heroes, mutually smeared with… Whose hair in handfuls marked the…
Writer folk across the bay Take the pains to see and say All their upward palms in air: 'Joaquin Miller’s cut his hair!' Hasten, hasten, writer folk
'T was a maiden lady (the newspape… Pious and prim and a bit gone-gray… She slept like an angel, holy and… Till ten o’ the clock in the shank… (When men and other wild animals p…
'Why, Goldenson, you’re looking v… Said Death as, strolling through… He entered that serene assassin’s… And hung his hat and coat upon a n… ‘I think that life in this seclude…
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.
I muse upon the distant town In many a dreamy mood. Above my head the sunbeams crown The graveyard’s giant rood. The lupin blooms among the tombs.