#Americans
In fair San Francisco a good man… And he wrote out a will, for he di… Said he: ‘It is proper, when maki… To stimulate virtue by comforting… So he left all his property, legal…
Abundant bores afflict this world,… Are bores of magnitude that-come a… They’re always coming, but they ne… Like funeral pageants, as they dro… Their lurid nonsense like a muffle…
Each to his taste: some men prefer… At mystery, as others at piquet. Some sit in mystic meditation; som… Parade the street with tambourine… One studies to decipher ancient lo…
Must you, Carnegie, evermore expl… Your worth, and all the reasons gi… Why black and red are similarly wh… And you and God identically right… Still must our ears without redres…
Dear Bruner, once we had a little… (That is to say, 'twas I did all… About the manner of your moral wal… How devious the trail you made in… On level ground, your law-protecte…
As sweet as the look of a lover Saluting the eyes of a maid That blossom to blue as the maid Is ablush to the glances above her… The sunshine is gilding the glade
Come, Stanford, let us sit at eas… And talk as old friends do. You talk of anything you please, And I will talk of you. You recently have said, I hear,
O nonsense, parson-tell me not the… And jubilate who follow your dicta… The good are the unhappiest lot al… I know they are from careful obser… If freedom from the terrors of dam…
Looking across the line, the Grec… ‘This border I will stain a Turke… The Moslem smiled securely and re… ‘No Greek has ever for his countr… While thus each patriot guarded hi…
A merry Christmas? Prudent, as I… You wish me something that you nee… Merry or sad, what does it signify… To you 't is equal if I laugh, or… Your hollow greeting, like a parro…
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…
His poems Riley says that he indi… Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly P… Feed him throat-full: for what the… Upon his empty stomach empties our…
As some enormous violet that tower… Colossal o’er the heads of lowlier… Its giant petals royally displayed… And casting half the landscape int… Delivering its odors, like the blo…
'Tis the census enumerator A-singing all forlorn: It’s ho! for the tall potater, And ho! for the clustered corn. The whiffle-tree bends in the bree…
Villain, when the word is spoken, And your chains at last are broken When the gibbet’s chilling shade Ceases darkly to enfold you, And the angel who enrolled you
