When, with the force of a ram that… Straight at the rear elevation of… The foot of Herculean Kilgore-sta… Or carnage unspeakable!-lit like a… Upon the Congressional door with…

The cur foretells the knell of par… The loafing herd winds slowly o’er… The wise man homewards plods; I o… To fiddle-faddle in a minor key.

The Church’s compass, if you plea… Has two or three (or more) degrees Of variation; And many a soul has gone to grief On this or that or t’other reef

God’s people sorely were oppressed… I heard their lamentations long; I hear their singing, clear and st… I see their banners in the West! The captains shout the battle-cry,

False to his art and to the high c… God laid upon him, Markham’s rebe… Beats all in vain the harp he touc… It yields a jingle and it yields n… No more the strings beneath his fi…

'By good men’s prayers see Grant… Shouts Talmage, pious creature! Yes, God, by supplication bored From every droning preacher, Exclaimed: 'So be it, tiresome cr…

The Senate met in Sacramento city… On public morals it had no committ… Though greatly these abounded. So… Was broken by the Senators in rio… Now, at the end of their contagiou…

'O father, I saw at the church as… The populace gathered in numbers s… That they couldn’t get in; and the… And they looked as if suffering te… ‘Twas the funeral, child, of a gen…

Running for Senator with clumsy p… He stooped so low, to win at least… That Fortune, tempted by a mark s… Sprang in an kicked him to the win…

Because that I am weak, my love,… I cannot follow the impatient feet Of my desire, but sit and watch th… Of the unpitying pendulum fulfill The hour appointed for the air to…

‘Sas agapo sas agapo,’ He sang beneath her lattice. 'Sas agapo’?' she murmured-'O, I wonder, now, what _that_ is!' Was she less fair that she did bea…

Upon my desk a single spray, With starry blossoms fraught. I write in many an idle way, Thinking one serious thought. ‘O flowers, a fine Greek name ye…

Nightly I put up this humble peti… ‘Forgive me, O Father of Glories… My sins of commission, my sins of… My sins of the Mission Dolores.’

How blest the land that counts amo… Her sons so many good and wise, To execute great feats of tongue When troubles rise. Behold them mounting every stump,

The sullen church-bell’s intermitt… The dirge’s melancholy monotone, The measured march, the drooping f… A great man’s progress to his plac… Along broad avenues himself decree…