Christmas, you tell me, comes but… One place it never comes, and that… Here, in these pages no good wishe… No well-worn greetings tediously r… For Christmas greetings are like…

It is pleasant to think, as I’m w… A-drying along my paper, That a monument fine will surely b… When death has extinguished my tap… From each rhyming scribe of the jo…

I ne’er could be entirely fond Of any maiden who’s a blonde, And no brunette that e’er I saw Had charms my heart’s whole warmth to draw.

I’d long been dead, but I returne… Some small affairs posterity was m… A mess of, and I came to see that… Received its dues. I’d hardly fin… The grave-mould still upon me, whe…

The way was long, the hill was ste… My footing scarcely I could keep. The night enshrouded me in gloom, I heard the ocean’s distant boom The trampling of the surges vast

What! imitate me, friend? Suppose… With agony and difficulty do What I do easily-what then? You’v… A style I heartily wish _I_ had n… If I from lack of sense and you f…

Why ask me, Gastrogogue, to dine (Unless to praise your rascal wine… Yet never ask some luckless sinner Who needs, as I do not, a dinner?

ROBERT F. MORROW Dear man! although a stranger and… To soft affection’s humanizing glo… Although untaught how manly hearts… With more desires than the desire…

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

The skies they were ashen and sobe… The leaves they were crisped and s… ‘ ’ ‘ withering ’… It was night in the lonesome Octo… Of my most immemorial year;

The rimer quenches his unheeded fi… The sound surceases and the sense… Then the domestic dog, to east and… Expounds the passions burning in h… The rising moon o’er that enchante…

Posterity with all its eyes Will come and view him where he li… Then, turning from the scene away With a concerted shrug, will say: 'H’m, Scarabaeus Sisyphus

Alas, alas, for the tourist’s guid… He turned from the beaten trail as… Wandered bewildered, lay down and… O grim is the Irony of Fate: It switches the man of low estate

‘Resolved that we will post,’ the… ‘All names of debtors who do never… ‘Whose shall be first?’ inquires t… ‘Who are the chiefs of the maraudi… Lo! high Parnassus, lifting from…

When lion and lamb have together l… Spectators cry out, all in chorus; 'The lamb doesn’t shrink nor the l… A miracle’s working before us!' But 't is patent why Hot-head his…