Beneath my window twilight made Familiar mysteries of shade. Faint voices from the darkening do… Were calling vaguely to the town. Intent upon a low, far gleam

Pennoyer, Governor of Oregon, Casting to South his eye across t… Of his dominion (where the Palmip… With leathers 'twixt his toes, pad… Amphibious) saw a rising cloud of…

The Devil one day, coming up from… All grimy with perspiration, Applied to St. Peter and begged h… Him a moment for consultation. The Saint showed him in where the…

That land full surely hastens to i… Where public sycophants in homage… The populace to flatter, and repea… The doubled echoes of its loud con… Lowly their attitude but high thei…

It is the gallant Seventh It fyghteth faste and free! God wot the where it fyghteth I ne desyre to be. The Gonfalon it flyeth,

The Swan of Avon died-the Swan Of Sacramento’ll soon be gone; And when his death-song he shall c… Stand back, or it will kill you to…

What! ‘Out of danger?’ Can the sl… Or canting Pharisee no more defam… Will Treachery caress my hand no… Nor Hatred He alurk about my door… Ingratitude, with benefits dismiss…

When Admonition’s hand essays Our greed to curse, Its lifted finger oft displays Our missing purse.

‘Tis a woeful yarn,’ said the sail… Who had sailed the northern-lakes 'No woefuler one has ever been tol… Exceptin’ them called ‘fakes.’ ‘Go on, thou son of the wind and f…

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…

He looked upon the ships as they All idly lay at anchor, Their sides with gorgeous workmen… The riveter and planker Republicans and Democrats,

That from _you_, neighbor! to whos… Each rhyming literary knacker scou… His cart-compelling Pegasus to tr… As folly, fame or famine smartly u… Admonished by the stimulating goad…

Oh, Marcus D. Boruck, me hearty, I sympathize wid ye, poor lad! A man that’s shot out of his party Is mighty onlucky, bedad! An’ the sowl o’ that man is sad.

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,

“YOU know, my friends, with what… I made a second marriage in my hou… Divorced old barren Reason from m… And took the Daughter of the Vine… So sang the Lord of Poets. In a…