It was a solemn rite as e’er Was seen by mortal man. The celebrants, the people there, Were all Republican. There Estee bent his grizzled hea…

The King of Scotland, years and y… Convened his courtiers in a gallan… And thus addressed them: 'Gentle sirs, from you Abundant counsel I have had, and…

The polecat, sovereign of its nati… Dashes damnation upon bad and good… The health of all the upas trees i… By exhalations deadlier than their… Poisons the rattlesnake and warts…

High Lord of Liars, Pickering, t… Let meaner mortals bend the subjec… Thine is mendacity’s imperial crow… Alike by genius, action and renown… No man, since words could set a ch…

Death-poet Pickering sat at his d… Wrapped in appropriate gloom; His posture was pensive and pictur… Like a raven charming a tomb. Enter a party a-drinking the cup

Sleep fell upon my senses and I d… Long years had circled since my li… The world was different, and all t… Remote and strange, like noises to… And one great Voice there was; an…

‘Sas agapo sas agapo,’ He sang beneath her lattice. 'Sas agapo’?' she murmured-'O, I wonder, now, what _that_ is!' Was she less fair that she did bea…

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.

Now o’ nights the ocean breeze Makes the patient flinch, For that zephyr bears a sneeze In every cubic inch. Lo! the lively population

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…

You may say they won’t grow, and s… Say it again till you’re sick of t… Get up on your ear, blow your blar… And hire a hall to proclaim it; an… May stand on a stump with a lifted…

‘Let music flourish!’ So he said… Hark! ere he’s gone the minstrelsy… The symphonies ascend, a swelling… Melodious thunders fill the welkin… The grand old lawyers, chinning on…

The Church’s compass, if you plea… Has two or three (or more) degrees Of variation; And many a soul has gone to grief On this or that or t’other reef

I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an’ free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn’t much

I muse upon the distant town In many a dreamy mood. Above my head the sunbeams crown The graveyard’s giant rood. The lupin blooms among the tombs.