#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
A Countess (so they tell the tale… Who dwelt of old in Arno’s vale, Where ladies, even of high degree, Know more of love than of A.B.C, Came once with a prodigious bribe
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
He held a book in his knotty paws, And its title grand read he: 'The Chronicles of the Kings’ it… By the History Companee. 'I’m a monarch,' he said
I heard that Heaven was bright an… And politicians dwelt not there. ‘Twas said by knowing ones that th… Were in the Elsewhere-so to say. So, waking from my last long sleep…
Unhappy State! with horrors still… Thy Hugo dead, thy Boulanger aliv… A Prince who’d govern where he da… And who for power would his birthr… Who, anxious o’er his enemies to r…
A conqueror as provident as brave, He robbed the cradle to supply the… His reign laid quantities of human… He fell upon the just and the unju…
Ben Truman, you’re a genius and c… Though one would not suspect it fr… You lack that certain spareness wh… Distinctive of the persons who mak… You show the workmanship of Stanf…
O Buddha, had you but foreknown The vices of your priesthood It would have made you twist and m… As any wounded beast would. You would have damned the entire l…
In fair San Francisco a good man… And he wrote out a will, for he di… Said he: ‘It is proper, when maki… To stimulate virtue by comforting… So he left all his property, legal…
'O father, I saw at the church as… The populace gathered in numbers s… That they couldn’t get in; and the… And they looked as if suffering te… ‘Twas the funeral, child, of a gen…
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…
‘Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday. Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay? He lifts his head, he laughs aloud…
Each to his taste: some men prefer… At mystery, as others at piquet. Some sit in mystic meditation; som… Parade the street with tambourine… One studies to decipher ancient lo…
In Congress once great Mowther sh… Debating weighty matters; Now into an asylum thrown, He vacuously chatters. If in that legislative hall
I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an’ free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn’t much
