That land full surely hastens to i… Where public sycophants in homage… The populace to flatter, and repea… The doubled echoes of its loud con… Lowly their attitude but high thei…

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…

A spitcat sate on a garden gate And a snapdog fared beneath; Careless and free was his mien, an… Held a fiddle-string in his teeth. She marked his march, she wrought…

Unbeautiful is the Piute! Howe’er bedecked with bravery, His person is unsavory Of soap he’s destitute. He multiplies upon the earth

Still as he climbed into the publi… His charms of person more apparent… Till the pleased world that watche… Saw nothing of him but his nether… Forgot his follies with his head’s…

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…

Dudley, great placeman, man of mar… Worthy of honor from a feeble pen Blunted in service of all true, go… You serve the Lord-in courses, _t… Au, naturel,_ as well as _a la Ni…

Swains and maidens, young and old, You to me this tale have told. Where the squalid town of Dae Irks the comfortable sea, Spreading webs to gather fish,

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…

'Twas a serious person with locks… And a figure like a crescent; His gravity, clearly, had come to… But his smile was evanescent. He stood and conversed with a neig…

You 're grayer than one would have… The climate you have over there In the East has apparently brough… Disorders affecting the hair, Which-pardon me-seems a thought sp…

DRAMATIS PERSONAE LELAND, THE KID _a Road Age… COWBOY CHARLEY _Same Line… HAPPY HUNTY _Ditto in All Re… SOOTYMUG _a Devil_

Republicans think Jonas Bimm A Democrat gone mad, And Democrats consider him Republican and bad. The Tough reviles him as a Dude

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

Beneath my window twilight made Familiar mysteries of shade. Faint voices from the darkening do… Were calling vaguely to the town. Intent upon a low, far gleam