Death-poet Pickering sat at his d… Wrapped in appropriate gloom; His posture was pensive and pictur… Like a raven charming a tomb. Enter a party a-drinking the cup

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…

Alas for ambition’s possessor! Alas for the famous and proud! The Isle of Manhattan’s best dres… Is wearing a hand-me-down shroud. The world has forgotten his glory;

Observe, dear Lord, what lively p… Are played by sentimental cranks! First this one mounts his hinder h… And brays the chimneys off the roo… Then that one, with exalted voice,

I dreamed that Gabriel took his h… On Resurrection’s fateful morn, And lighting upon Laurel Hill Blew long, blew loud, blew high an… The houses compassing the ground

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…

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…

I should like, good friends, to me… Mr. William Perry Peters, of the… Whose fate is full of meaning, if… Admonition to the haughty, consola… It happened in the hot snap which…

Cried Age to Youth: 'Abate your… The distance hither’s brief indeed… But Youth pressed on without dela… The shout had reached but half the…

Megaceph, chosen to serve the Sta… In the halls of legislative debate… One day with his credentials came To the capitol’s door and announce… The doorkeeper looked, with a comi…

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…

Beneath his coat of dirt great Ne… To hide the avenging rope. He handles all he touches without… Excepting soap.

The Seraphs came to Christ, and s… The man, presumptuous and overbold… Who boasted that his mercy could e… Thine own, is dead and on his way… Gravely the Saviour asked: ‘What…

I step from the door with a shiver (This fog is uncommonly cold) And ask myself: What did I give h… The maiden a trifle gone-old, With the head of gray hair that wa…

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