#Americans
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…
Editor Owen, of San Jose, Commonly known as ‘our friend J.J… Weary of scribbling for daily brea… Weary of writing what nobody read, Slept one day at his desk and drea…
Abundant bores afflict this world,… Are bores of magnitude that-come a… They’re always coming, but they ne… Like funeral pageants, as they dro… Their lurid nonsense like a muffle…
One thousand years I slept beneat… My sleep in 1901 beginning, Then, by the action of some scurvy… Who happened then to recollect my… I was revived and given another in…
O hoary sculptor, stay thy hand: I fain would view the lettered sto… What carvest thou?-perchance some… And solemn fancy all thine own. For oft to know the fitting word
So, Beecher’s dead. His was a gre… Great as a giant organ is, whose r… Hold in them all the souls of all… That man has ever taught and never… When on this mighty instrument He…
Alas for ambition’s possessor! Alas for the famous and proud! The Isle of Manhattan’s best dres… Is wearing a hand-me-down shroud. The world has forgotten his glory;
Megaceph, chosen to serve the Sta… In the halls of legislative debate… One day with his credentials came To the capitol’s door and announce… The doorkeeper looked, with a comi…
LORING PICKERING _(After Pope)_ Here rests a writer, great but not… Born destitute of feeling and of s… No power he but o’er his brain des…
Good Parson Dickson preached, I’… A sermon-ah, ‘twas very old And very, very, bald! ’Twas all about-I know not what It was about, nor what ‘twas not.
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?
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
“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…
O very remarkable mortal, What food is engaging your jaws And staining with amber their port… 'It’s ‘baccy I chaws.’ And why do you sway in your walkin…
Ben Bulger was a silver man, Though not a mine had he: He thought it were a noble plan To make the coinage free. 'There hain’t for years been sech…