I drew aside the Future’s veil And saw upon his bier The poet Whitman. Loud the wail And damp the falling tear. 'He’s dead-he is no more!' one cri…

Death-poet Pickering sat at his d… Wrapped in appropriate gloom; His posture was pensive and pictur… Like a raven charming a tomb. Enter a party a-drinking the cup

Beneath his coat of dirt great Ne… To hide the avenging rope. He handles all he touches without… Excepting soap.

I’m a gorgeous golden hero And my trade is taking life. Hear the twittle-twittle-tweero Of my sibillating fife And the rub-a-dub-a-dum

What! photograph in colors? 'Tis… And he who dreams it is not overwi… If colors are vibration they but s… And have no being. But if Tyndall… Why, come, then-photograph my lady…

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…

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

Who told Creed Haymond he was wit… Had nothing better in this world t… Could no greased pig’s appeal to h… Kindle his ardor for the friendly… Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,

O, heavenly powers! will wonders n… Hair upon dogs and feathers upon g… The boys in mischief and the pigs… The drinking water wet! the coal o… In meadows, rivulets surpassing fa…

De Young (in Chicago the story is… ‘Took his life in his hand,’ like… And stood before Buckley-who thou… For Buckley, the man-eating monst… ‘Count fairly the ballots!’ so ran…

As time rolled on the whole world… A desolation and a darksome curse; And some one said: ‘The changes t… In the fair frame of things, from… Are wrought by strikes. The sun w…

The friends who stood about my bed Looked down upon my face and said: 'God’s will be done-the fellow’s d… When from my body I was free I straightway felt myself, ah me!

Have but one God: thy knees were… If bent in prayer to three or four… Adore no images save those The coinage of thy country shows. Take not the Name in vain. Direct

The flabby wine-skin of his brain Yields to some pathologic strain, And voids from its unstored abysm The driblet of an aphorism.

When, long ago, the young world ci… Through wider reaches of a richer… New-eyed, the men and maids saw, m… The thoughts untold in one another… Each wish displayed, and every pas…