#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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
Goldenson hanged! Well, Heaven fo… That I should smile above him: Though truth to tell, I never did Exactly love him. It can’t be wrong, though, to rejo…
'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…
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,
O bear me, gods, to some enchanted… Where woman’s tears can antidote h…
Because you call yourself Knights… There’s neither Knight nor Temple… Because you thus by vain pretense… To paltry purposes traditions gran… Because to cheat the ignorant you…
‘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…
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…
Who told Creed Haymond he was wit… Had nothing better in this world t… Could no greased pig’s appeal to h… Kindle his ardor for the friendly… Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,
Like a worn mother he attempts in… To still the unruly Crier of his… The more he rocks the cradle of hi… The more uproarious grows the brat…
Enoch Arden was an able Seaman; hear of his mishap Not in wild mendacious fable, As 't was told by t’ other chap; For I hold it is a youthful
So, Governor, you would not serve… Although we’d all agree to pay you… You find it all is vanity and pain One clump of clover in a field of… One grain of pleasure in a peck of…
‘What are those, father?’ ‘States… Lacrymose, unparliamentary, wild.’ ‘What are they that way for, fathe… ’Our candidate’s better,' they sai… ‘What did they say he was, father?…
From pride, joy, hate, greed, mela… From any kind of vice, or folly, Bias, propensity or passion That is in prevalence and fashion, Save one, the sufferer or lover
When Dr. Charles O’Donnell died They sank a box with him inside. The plate with his initials three Was simply graven-'C.O.D.' That night two demons of the Pit
