Baffled he stands upon the track The automatic switches clack. Where’er he turns his solemn eyes The interlocking signals rise. The trains, before his visage pale…

DRAMATIS PERSONAE. _QUICK_: DE YOUNG _a Brother to Mushroo… _DEAD_: SWIFT _an Heirloom_

Grief for an absent lover, husband… Is barely felt before it comes to… A score of early consolations serv… To modify its mouth’s dejected cur… But woes of creditors when debtors…

The pig is taught by sermons and e… To think the God of Swine has sno… Judibras.

‘The world is dull,’ I cried in m… ‘Its myths and fables are no longe… ’Roll back thy centuries, O Fathe… To Greece transport me in her gol… 'Give back the beautiful old Gods…

Let lowly themes engage my humble… Stupidities of critics, not of men… Be it mine once more the maunderin… Of the expounders’ self-directed r… Their wire-drawn fancies, finicall…

‘You acted unwisely,’ I cried, ‘a… By the outcome.’ He calmly eyed m… ‘When choosing the course of my ac… ‘I had not the outcome to guide me…

The Chinatown at Bakersfield Was blazing bright and high; The flames to water would not yiel… Though torrents drenched the sky And drowned the ground for miles a…

‘I never yet exactly could determi… Just how it is that the judicial e… Is kept so safely from predacious… ‘It is not so, my friend: though i… ’Tis kept in camphor, and you ofte…

'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…

Dies irae! dies ilia! Solvet saeclum in favilla Teste David cum Sibylla. Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus.

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…

FITCH: 'All vices you’ve exhausted, frien… So all the papers say.' PICKERING: ‘Ah, what vile calumnies are penne…

Hangman’s hands laid in this tomb… Imp of Satan’s getting, whom an Ancient legend says that woman Never bore-he owed his birth To Sin herself. From Hell to Ear…

As in a dream, strange epitaphs I… Inscribed on yet unquarried stone, Where wither flowers yet unstrown The Campo Santo of the time to be…