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…

Another Irish landlord gone to gr… Slain by the bullets of the tenant… Pray, good agrarians, what wrong r… Such foul redress? Between you an… All Ireland’s parted with an even…

Wild wanton Luxury lays waste the… With difficulty tilled by Thrift’… Then dies the State!-and, in its… The millionaires, all maggot-like,… Alas! was it for this that Warren…

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…

Assembled in the parlor Of the place of last resort, The smiler and the snarler And the guests of every sort The elocution chap

‘Let John P. Irish rise!’ the ed… As when Creation into being spran… Nature, not clearly understanding,… To make a bird that on the air cou… But naught could baffle the creati…

'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I… All appareled as a prophet of a me… And in a jeremaid of objurgatory w… He lifted up his _jodel_ to the fo… O ye sanguinary statesmen, intermi…

I dreamed that I was dead. The ye… The world forgot that such a man a… Had ever lived and written: other… Were hailed with homage, in their… Out of my grave a giant beech upgr…

'Tis the widow of Thomas Blythe, And she goeth upon the spree, And red are cheeks of the bystande… For her acts are light and free. In a seven-ounce costume

Ben Bulger was a silver man, Though not a mine had he: He thought it were a noble plan To make the coinage free. 'There hain’t for years been sech…

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…

The lily cranks, the lily cranks, The loppy, loony lasses! They multiply in rising ranks To execute their solemn pranks, They moon along in masses.

Big Smith is an Oakland School B… And he looks as good as ever he ca… And he’s such a cold and a chaste… That snowflakes all are his kin an… Wherever his eye he chances to thr…

O hoary sculptor, stay thy hand: I fain would view the lettered sto… What carvest thou?-perchance some… And solemn fancy all thine own. For oft to know the fitting word

O, justice, you have fled, to dwel… In Mexico, unstrangled, Lest you should hang as high as-we… As Haman dangled. (I know not if his cord he twanged…