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

O, heavenly powers! will wonders n… Hair upon dogs and feathers upon g… The boys in mischief and the pigs… The drinking water wet! the coal o… In meadows, rivulets surpassing fa…

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…

'O warrior with the burnished arms With bullion cord and tassel Pray tell me of the lurid charms Of service and the fierce alarms: The storming of the castle,

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…

O statesmen, what would you be at, With torches, flags and bands? You make me first throw up my hat, And then my hands.

Dimly apparent, through the gloom Of Market-street’s opaque simoom, A queue of people, parti-sexed, Awaiting the command of ‘Next!’ A sidewalk booth, a dingy sign:

Despots effete upon tottering thro… Unsteadily poised upon dead men’s… Walk up! walk up! the circus is fr… And this wonderful spectacle you s… Millions of voters who mostly are…

Once I ‘dipt into the future far… And saw-it was not Sandow, nor Jo… The Emancipated Woman, who was we… Here and there for the discovery o… But the sun of Evolution ever ros…

You say, John Irish, Mr. Taylor… A painted beard. Quite likely tha… And sure 'tis natural you spend yo… On what has been least merciful to… By Taylor’s chin, if I am not mis…

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…

Hawaii’s King resigned his breath Our Legislature guffawed. The awful dignity of death Not any single rough awed. But when our Legislators die

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 Seraphs came to Christ, and s… The man, presumptuous and overbold… Who boasted that his mercy could e… Thine own, is dead and on his way… Gravely the Saviour asked: ‘What…

Charles Shortridge once to St. P… ‘Down!’ cried the saint with his f… ‘Tis writ that every hardy liar Shall dwell forever and ever in fi… 'That’s what I said the night tha…