'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…

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…

Freedom, as every schoolboy knows, Once shrieked as Kosciusko fell; On every wind, indeed, that blows I hear her yell. She screams whenever monarchs meet…

If the wicked gods were willing (Pray it never may be true!) That a universal chilling Should ensue Of the sentiment of loving,

The lily cranks, the lily cranks, The loppy, loony lasses! They multiply in rising ranks To execute their solemn pranks, They moon along in masses.

‘Authority, authority!’ they shout Whose minds, not large enough to h… Some chance opinion ever entertain… By dogma billeted upon their brain… ‘Ha!’ they exclaim with choreatic…

Upon this quarter-eagle’s leveled… The Lord’s Prayer, legibly inscri… 'Our Father which’-the pronoun th… And shows the scribe to have addre… 'Which art in Heaven’-an error th…

What wrecked the Roman power? One… Another indolence, another dice. Emascle says polygamy. ‘Not so,’ Says Impycu-'twas luxury and show… The parson, lifting up a brow of b…

Good friend, it is with deep regre… The latest, strangest turning of y… Though any way you wear that menta… The seamy side seems always to be… Who could have thought that you wo…

Hear me sing of Sally Larkin who,… Played accordions as well as any l… And I’ve often heard it stated th… That Professor Schweinenhauer was… And that beasts were so affected w…

To Parmentier Parisians raise A statue fine and large: He cooked potatoes fifty ways, Nor ever led a charge. '_Palmam qui meruit’_-the rest

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…

Once with Christ he entered Salem… Once in Moab bullied Balaam, Once by Apuleius staged He the pious much enraged. And, again, his head, as beaver,

Well, I’ve met her again-at the M… She’d told me to see her no more; It was not a command-a petition; I’d granted it once before. Yes, granted it, hoping she’d writ…

You promised to paint me a picture… Dear Mat, And I was to pay you in rhyme. Although I am loth to inflict you… Most easy of consciences, I’m