Who’s this that lispeth in the thi… Which crowds to claim distinction… Fresh from ‘the palms and temples… The mixed aromas quarrel in his mo… Of orange blossoms this the linger…

Over the man the street car ran, And the driver did never grin. ‘O killer of men, pray tell me whe… Your laughter means to begin. ’Ten years to a day I’ve observed…

Fly, heedless stranger, from this… Where rests in Satan an offender… In point of greatness, as in point… Of new-school rascals who proclaim… Skilled with a frank loquacity to…

Still as he climbed into the publi… His charms of person more apparent… Till the pleased world that watche… Saw nothing of him but his nether… Forgot his follies with his head’s…

Cried Allen Forman: 'Doctor, pra… Compose my spirits’ strife: O what may be my chances, say, Of living all my life? ‘For lately I have dreamed of hig…

Why should he not have been allowe… To thread with peaceful feet the c… Which filled that Christian stree… The Decalogue he had observed, From Faith in Jesus had not swerv…

I should like, good friends, to me… Mr. William Perry Peters, of the… Whose fate is full of meaning, if… Admonition to the haughty, consola… It happened in the hot snap which…

Fear not in any tongue to call Upon the Lord-He’s skilled in all… But if He answereth my plea He speaketh one unknown to me.

Charles Shortridge once to St. P… ‘Down!’ cried the saint with his f… ‘Tis writ that every hardy liar Shall dwell forever and ever in fi… 'That’s what I said the night tha…

It is a politician man He draweth near his end, And friends weep round that partis… Of every man the friend. Between the Known and the Unknown

Wallace, created on a noble plan To show us that a Judge can be a… Through moral mire exhaling mortal… God-guided sweet and foot-clean to… In salutation here and sign I lif…

Now o’ nights the ocean breeze Makes the patient flinch, For that zephyr bears a sneeze In every cubic inch. Lo! the lively population

Mahomet Stanford, with covetous s… Gazed on a vision surpassingly fai… Far on the desert’s remote extreme A mountain of gold with a mellow g… Reared its high pinnacles into the…

'Let Glory’s sons manipulate The tiller of the Ship of State. Be mine the humble, useful toil To work the tiller of the soil.'

‘Who drives fat oxen should himsel… Who sings for nobles, he should no… There’s no _non sequitur_, I thin… And this is logic plain as a, b, c… Now, Hector Stuart, you’re a Sco…