The Senate met in Sacramento city… On public morals it had no committ… Though greatly these abounded. So… Was broken by the Senators in rio… Now, at the end of their contagiou…

‘Who drives fat oxen should himsel… Who sings for nobles, he should no… There’s no _non sequitur_, I thin… And this is logic plain as a, b, c… Now, Hector Stuart, you’re a Sco…

Alas for ambition’s possessor! Alas for the famous and proud! The Isle of Manhattan’s best dres… Is wearing a hand-me-down shroud. The world has forgotten his glory;

'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…

As the poor ass that from his padd… Might sound abroad his field-compa… Recounting volubly their well-bred… Their port impressive and their we… Mistaking for the world’s assent t…

That from _you_, neighbor! to whos… Each rhyming literary knacker scou… His cart-compelling Pegasus to tr… As folly, fame or famine smartly u… Admonished by the stimulating goad…

Dies irae! dies ilia! Solvet saeclum in favilla Teste David cum Sibylla. Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus.

The lily cranks, the lily cranks, The loppy, loony lasses! They multiply in rising ranks To execute their solemn pranks, They moon along in masses.

I lay in silence, dead. A woman c… And laid a rose upon my breast, an… ‘May God be merciful.’ She spoke… And added, ‘It is strange to thin… ’He loved me well enough, but ‘t w…

Sharon, ambitious of immortal sham… Fame’s dead-wall daubed with his i… Served in the Senate, for our sin… Each word a folly and each vote a… Law for our governance well skille…

I drifted (or I seemed to) in a b… Upon the surface of a shoreless se… Whereon no ship nor anything did f… Save only the frail bark supportin… And that-it was so shadowy-seemed…

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.

Editor Owen, of San Jose, Commonly known as ‘our friend J.J… Weary of scribbling for daily brea… Weary of writing what nobody read, Slept one day at his desk and drea…

There was a cranky Governor His name it wasn’t Waterman. For office he was hotter than The love of any lover, nor Was Boruck’s threat of aiding him

Professor dear, I think it queer That all these good religions ('Twixt you and me, some two or th… Are schemes for plucking pigeons) I mean 'tis strange that every cha…