#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen, The wisest and the best of men, Betook him to the place where sat With folded feet upon a mat Of precious stones beneath a palm,
The soft asphaltum in the sun; Betrays a tendency to run; Whereas the dog that takes his way Across its course concludes to sta…
Off Santa Cruz the western wave Was crimson as with blood: The sun was sinking to his grave Beneath that angry flood. Sir Walter Turnbull, brave and st…
Be pleased, O Lord, to take a peo… That Thine avenging sword has spa… That Thou hast parted from our li… And forced our neighbors’ lips to… Father of Mercies, with a heart c…
An 'actors’ cemetery’! Sure The devil never tires Of planning places to procure The sticks to feed his fires.
For Gladstone’s portrait five tho… Were paid, 't is said, to Sir Joh… I cannot help thinking that such f… Transcended reason’s uttermost bou… For it seems to me uncommonly quee…
When Dr. Bill Bartlett stepped o… Of Mammon’s distracting and weari… To stand and deliver a lecture on… Conditions of Intellectual Life,’ I cursed the offender who gave him…
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…
Like a worn mother he attempts in… To still the unruly Crier of his… The more he rocks the cradle of hi… The more uproarious grows the brat…
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…
‘Lothario is very low,’ So all the doctors tell. Nay, nay, not _so_-he will be, tho… If ever he get well.
Hail, blessed Blunder! golden ido… Clay-footed deity of all who fail. Celestial image, let thy glory shi… Thy feet concealing, but a lamp to… Let me, at seasons opportune and f…
In contact, lo! the flint and stee… By sharp and flame, the thought re… That he the metal, she the stone, Had cherished secretly alone.
Well, I’ve met her again-at the M… She’d told me to see her no more; It was not a command-a petition; I’d granted it once before. Yes, granted it, hoping she’d writ…