You may say, if you please, Johnn… Are crazy to marry your dukes and… But I’ve heard that the maids of… Greet bachelor lords with a favori… Nay, titles, ‘tis said in defense…

So, in the Sunday papers _you_, D… Damn, all great Englishmen in Eng… I am no Englishman, but in my rea… A rogue shall never rail where her… You are the man, if I mistake you…

Why should he not have been allowe… To thread with peaceful feet the c… Which filled that Christian stree… The Decalogue he had observed, From Faith in Jesus had not swerv…

‘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…

‘Let there be Liberty!’ God said,… The red skies all were luminous.… Struck first Columbia’s kindling… One hundred and eleven years ago!' So sang a patriot whom once I saw

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…

When a fair bridge is builded o’er… Between two cities, some ambitious… Hot for distinction, pleads for ea… To push his clumsy feet upon the s… That men in after years may single…

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…

The Senate woke; the Chairman’s s… Was stilled, its echoes balking; The startled members dreamed no mo… For Steele, who long had held the… Had suddenly ceased talking.

When Man and Woman had been made, All but the disposition, The Devil to the workshop strayed… And somehow gained admission. The Master rested from his work,

Tuckerton Tamerlane Morey Mahosh Is a statesman of world-wide fame, With a notable knack at rhetorical… To glorify somebody’s name Somebody chosen by Tuckerton’s ma…

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.

Good friend, it is with deep regre… The latest, strangest turning of y… Though any way you wear that menta… The seamy side seems always to be… Who could have thought that you wo…

The sullen church-bell’s intermitt… The dirge’s melancholy monotone, The measured march, the drooping f… A great man’s progress to his plac… Along broad avenues himself decree…

It is the gallant Seventh It fyghteth faste and free! God wot the where it fyghteth I ne desyre to be. The Gonfalon it flyeth,