#AmericanWriters
Once on a time, so ancient poets s… There reigned in Godknowswhere a… So great a monarch ne’er before wa… He was a hero, even to his queen, In whose respect he held so high a…
False to his art and to the high c… God laid upon him, Markham’s rebe… Beats all in vain the harp he touc… It yields a jingle and it yields n… No more the strings beneath his fi…
Well, James McMillan Shafter, yo… At least you were when last I kne… And if the people since have made… I did not notice it. I’ve much to… Without endeavoring to follow, thr…
Beauty (they called her) wasn’t a… Of many things in the world afraid… She wasn’t a maid who turned and f… At sight of a mouse, alive or dead… She wasn’t a maid a man could 'sho…
Dear Bruner, once we had a little… (That is to say, 'twas I did all… About the manner of your moral wal… How devious the trail you made in… On level ground, your law-protecte…
The way was long, the hill was ste… My footing scarcely I could keep. The night enshrouded me in gloom, I heard the ocean’s distant boom The trampling of the surges vast
The trumpet sounded and the dead Came forth from earth and ocean, And Pickering arose and sped Aloft with wobbling motion. ‘What makes him fly lop-sided?’ cr…
There were brave men, some one has… Before Atrides (those were mostly… Behind him) and ere you could e’er… Actaeon lived, Nimrod and Bahram… In strength and speed and daring t…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. _QUICK_: DE YOUNG _a Brother to Mushroo… _DEAD_: SWIFT _an Heirloom_
What! Pixley, must I hear you cal… Of all the vices that infest your… Was’t not enough that lately you d… Your money-worship in the ears of… Still must you crack your brazen c…
I died. As meekly in the earth I… With shriveled fingers reverently… The worm-uncivil engineer!-my clay Tunneled industriously, and the mo… My body could not dodge them, but…
A famous journalist, who long Had told the great unheaded throng Whate’er they thought, by day or n… Was true as Holy Writ, and right, Was caught in-well, on second thou…
So, Parson Stebbins, you’ve relea… To say that here, and here, we pre… 'Tis a great thing an editor to sk… And hang his faulty pelt upon a na… (If over-eared, it has, at least,…
'What’s in the paper?' Oh, it’s d… There’s nothing happening at all-a… After the war-storm. Mr. Someone’… Killed by her lover with, I think… A fire on Blank Street and some b…
I turned my eyes upon the Future’… And saw its pictured prophecies un… I saw that magical life-laden trai… Flash its long glories o’er Nebra… I saw it smoothly up the mountain…