Sweet Auburn! liveliest village o… Where Health and Slander welcome… Whence smiling innocence, its trib… Retires in terror, wounded and dis… Dear lovely bowers of gossip and d…

I stood upon a hill. The setting… Was crimson with a curse and a por… And scarce his angry ray lit up th… That lay below, whose lurid gloom… Freaked with a moving mist, which,…

Despots effete upon tottering thro… Unsteadily poised upon dead men’s… Walk up! walk up! the circus is fr… And this wonderful spectacle you s… Millions of voters who mostly are…

Beneath my window twilight made Familiar mysteries of shade. Faint voices from the darkening do… Were calling vaguely to the town. Intent upon a low, far gleam

Welcker, I’m told, can boast a fa… And honored in the service of the… Public Instruction all his mind e… He guides its methods and its wage… Prime Pedagogue, imperious and gr…

I saw the devil-he was working fre… A customs-house he builded by the… ‘Why do you this?’ The devil rais… 'Churches and courts I’ve built e…

The Seraphs came to Christ, and s… The man, presumptuous and overbold… Who boasted that his mercy could e… Thine own, is dead and on his way… Gravely the Saviour asked: ‘What…

So, Estee, you are still alive! I… That you had died and were a bless… I know at least your coffin once w… With Railroad money; and ‘twas sa… Historians that Stanford made a b…

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…

Once on a time, so ancient poets s… There reigned in Godknowswhere a… So great a monarch ne’er before wa… He was a hero, even to his queen, In whose respect he held so high a…

Hasten, children, black and white Celebrate the yearly rite. Every pupil plant a tree: It will grow some day to be Big and strong enough to bear

The Chinatown at Bakersfield Was blazing bright and high; The flames to water would not yiel… Though torrents drenched the sky And drowned the ground for miles a…

Come, sisters, weep!-our Baron de… Alas! has run away. If always we had kept him here He had not gone astray. Painter and grainer it were vain

A famous journalist, who long Had told the great unheaded throng Whate’er they thought, by day or n… Was true as Holy Writ, and right, Was caught in-well, on second thou…