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…

We heard a song-bird trilling 'T was but a night ago. Such rapture he was rilling As only we could know. This morning he is flinging

The Devil stood before the gate Of Heaven. He had a single mate: Behind him, in his shadow, slunk Clay Sheets in a perspiring funk. ‘Saint Peter, see this season tic…

Come, sisters, weep!-our Baron de… Alas! has run away. If always we had kept him here He had not gone astray. Painter and grainer it were vain

Posterity with all its eyes Will come and view him where he li… Then, turning from the scene away With a concerted shrug, will say: 'H’m, Scarabaeus Sisyphus

How well this man unfolded to our… The world’s beliefs of Death and… This man whose own convictions non… Nor if his maze of reason had a cl… Dogmas he wrote for daily bread, b…

Strolling at sunset in my native l… With fruits and flowers thick on e… I crossed a Shadow flung athwart… Emerging on a waste of rock and sa… ‘The apples all are gone from here…

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…

O statesmen, what would you be at, With torches, flags and bands? You make me first throw up my hat, And then my hands.

The Day of Judgment spread its gl… O’er continents and seas. The graves cracked open everywhere… Like pods of early peas. Up to the Court of Heaven sped

Erected to 'Boss’ Shepherd by the… Good folk he lived and moved among… Guarded on either hand by the poli… With soldiers in his front and in…

‘To the will of the people we loya… That’s the minority shibboleth now… O noble antagonists, answer me fla… What would you do if you didn’t do…

For Gladstone’s portrait five tho… Were paid, 't is said, to Sir Joh… I cannot help thinking that such f… Transcended reason’s uttermost bou… For it seems to me uncommonly quee…

It is a politician man He draweth near his end, And friends weep round that partis… Of every man the friend. Between the Known and the Unknown

To flatter your way to the goad of… O plausible Mr. Perkins, You’ll need ten tons of the softes… And butter a thousand firkins. The soap you could put to a better…