The Church’s compass, if you plea… Has two or three (or more) degrees Of variation; And many a soul has gone to grief On this or that or t’other reef

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…

'What’s in the paper?' Oh, it’s d… There’s nothing happening at all-a… After the war-storm. Mr. Someone’… Killed by her lover with, I think… A fire on Blank Street and some b…

Unbeautiful is the Piute! Howe’er bedecked with bravery, His person is unsavory Of soap he’s destitute. He multiplies upon the earth

O hoary sculptor, stay thy hand: I fain would view the lettered sto… What carvest thou?-perchance some… And solemn fancy all thine own. For oft to know the fitting word

_The Superintendent of an Almshou… SUPERINTENDENT: So _you’re_ unthankful-you’ll not… You sit about the place all day an… I understand you’ll not attend the…

Erected to 'Boss’ Shepherd by the… Good folk he lived and moved among… Guarded on either hand by the poli… With soldiers in his front and in…

'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…

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…

Your influence, my friend, has gat… To east and west its tides encroac… There’ll be, on all God’s foot-st… No clean spot left for God to set…

A famous conqueror, in battle brav… Who robbed the cradle to supply th… His reign laid quantities of human… He fell upon the just and the unju…

Strolling at sunset in my native l… With fruits and flowers thick on e… I crossed a Shadow flung athwart… Emerging on a waste of rock and sa… ‘The apples all are gone from here…

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…

Little’s the good to sit and griev… Because the serpent tempted Eve. Better to wipe your eyes and take A club and go out and kill a snake… What do you gain by cursing Nick

Like a worn mother he attempts in… To still the unruly Crier of his… The more he rocks the cradle of hi… The more uproarious grows the brat…