Boruck and Waterman upon their gr… In Hades lay, with many a sigh an… Hotly disputing, for each swore hi… Were clearly keener than the other… And, truly, each had much to boast…

Of a person known as Peters I wil… An unusual adventure into narrativ… Mr. William Perry Peters, of the… A public educator and an orator as… Mr. Peters had a weakness which,…

To a hunter from the city, Overtaken by the night, Spake, in tones of tender pity For himself, an aged wight: ‘I have found the world a fountain

Way down in the Boom Belt lived… A person named Petrie, he lived t… But Mr. Roselle he resided away Sing tooral iooral iooral iay. Once Mrs. Roselle in her room was…

God dreamed-the suns sprang flamin… And sailing worlds with many a ven… He woke-His smile alone illumined…

Dimly apparent, through the gloom Of Market-street’s opaque simoom, A queue of people, parti-sexed, Awaiting the command of ‘Next!’ A sidewalk booth, a dingy sign:

You promised to paint me a picture… Dear Mat, And I was to pay you in rhyme. Although I am loth to inflict you… Most easy of consciences, I’m

A is defrauded of his land by B, Who’s driven from the premises by… D buys the place with coin of plun… 'That A’s an Anarchist!' says F…

The trumpet sounded and the dead Came forth from earth and ocean, And Pickering arose and sped Aloft with wobbling motion. ‘What makes him fly lop-sided?’ cr…

Down in Southern Arizona where th… And the ‘Mescalero,’ gifted with… Every hour renounces one of them b… The assassinating wassail that has… Where the enterprising dealer in…

I saw-’t was in a dream, the other… A man whose hair with age was thin… One hundred years had bettered by… And still his step was firm, his e… Before him and about him pressed a…

'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…

I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an’ free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn’t much

Writer folk across the bay Take the pains to see and say All their upward palms in air: 'Joaquin Miller’s cut his hair!' Hasten, hasten, writer folk

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