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…

With crow bones all the land is wh… From the gates of morn to the gate… Picked clean, they lie on the cumb… And the politician’s paunch is rou… And he strokes it down and across…

Two villains of the highest rank Set out one night to rob a bank. They found the building, looked it… Each window noted, tried each door… Scanned carefully the lidded hole

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…

High Lord of Liars, Pickering, t… Let meaner mortals bend the subjec… Thine is mendacity’s imperial crow… Alike by genius, action and renown… No man, since words could set a ch…

Thou shalt no God but me adore: 'Twere too expensive to have more. No images nor idols make For Roger Ingersoll to break. Take not God’s name in vain: sele…

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…

Here sleeps one of the greatest st… Of jurisprudence. Nature endowed him with the gift Of the juristhrift. All points of law alike he threw

I know not, Mr. Catton, who you a… Nor very clearly why; but you go f… To show that you are many things b… A Chilean Consul with a tempting… But what they are I hardly could…

As Death was a-riding out one day… Across Mount Carmel he took his w… Where he met a mendicant monk, Some three or four quarters drunk, With a holy leer and a pious grin,

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…

As in a dream, strange epitaphs I… Inscribed on yet unquarried stone, Where wither flowers yet unstrown The Campo Santo of the time to be…

O statesmen, what would you be at, With torches, flags and bands? You make me first throw up my hat, And then my hands.

We heard a song-bird trilling 'T was but a night ago. Such rapture he was rilling As only we could know. This morning he is flinging