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…

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…

He lay on his bed and solemnly ‘si… Gasping-perhaps ‘twas a jest he me… ’This of a sound and disposing min… Is the last ill-will and contestam…

I dreamed I was dreaming one morn… In a garden with flowers teeming. On an island I lay in a mystical… In the dream that I dreamed I was… The ghost of a scent-had it follow…

Alas, alas, for the tourist’s guid… He turned from the beaten trail as… Wandered bewildered, lay down and… O grim is the Irony of Fate: It switches the man of low estate

‘If life were not worth having,’ s… ‘T would have in suicide one pleas… ‘An error,’ said the pessimist, 'y… What’s not worth having cannot be…

Twas a sick young man with a face… And an eye that was all alone; And he shook his head in a hopeles… As he sat on a roadside stone. ‘O, ailing youth, what untoward fa…

What! ‘Out of danger?’ Can the sl… Or canting Pharisee no more defam… Will Treachery caress my hand no… Nor Hatred He alurk about my door… Ingratitude, with benefits dismiss…

Fly, heedless stranger, from this… Where rests in Satan an offender… In point of greatness, as in point… Of new-school rascals who proclaim… Skilled with a frank loquacity to…

When Liberverm resigned the chair Of This or That in college, where For two decades he’d gorged his br… With more than it could well conta… In order to relieve the stress

Abundant bores afflict this world,… Are bores of magnitude that-come a… They’re always coming, but they ne… Like funeral pageants, as they dro… Their lurid nonsense like a muffle…

‘I never yet exactly could determi… Just how it is that the judicial e… Is kept so safely from predacious… ‘It is not so, my friend: though i… ’Tis kept in camphor, and you ofte…

Says Gerald Massey: ‘When I writ… Of souls of the departed guides my… How strange that poems cumbering o… Penned by immortal parts, have non…

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! imitate me, friend? Suppose… With agony and difficulty do What I do easily-what then? You’v… A style I heartily wish _I_ had n… If I from lack of sense and you f…