#AmericanWriters
Sir Impycu Lackland, from over th… Has led to the altar Miss Bloatie… The wedding took place at the Chu… The fashion, the rank and the weal… No person was absent of all whom o…
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…
Hasten, children, black and white Celebrate the yearly rite. Every pupil plant a tree: It will grow some day to be Big and strong enough to bear
'O warrior with the burnished arms With bullion cord and tassel Pray tell me of the lurid charms Of service and the fierce alarms: The storming of the castle,
When lion and lamb have together l… Spectators cry out, all in chorus; 'The lamb doesn’t shrink nor the l… A miracle’s working before us!' But 't is patent why Hot-head his…
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…
Beneath my window twilight made Familiar mysteries of shade. Faint voices from the darkening do… Were calling vaguely to the town. Intent upon a low, far gleam
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…
Goddess of Liberty! O thou Whose tearless eyes behold the cha… And look unmoved upon the slain, Eternal peace upon thy brow,- Before thy shrine the races press,
Cried Allen Forman: 'Doctor, pra… Compose my spirits’ strife: O what may be my chances, say, Of living all my life? ‘For lately I have dreamed of hig…
‘Resolved that we will post,’ the… ‘All names of debtors who do never… ‘Whose shall be first?’ inquires t… ‘Who are the chiefs of the maraudi… Lo! high Parnassus, lifting from…
'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I… All appareled as a prophet of a me… And in a jeremaid of objurgatory w… He lifted up his _jodel_ to the fo… O ye sanguinary statesmen, intermi…
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
Some one ('tis hardly new) has odd… The color of a trumpet’s blare is… And Joseph Emmett thinks the crim… On woman’s cheek a trumpet-note of… The more the red storm rises round…
I turned my eyes upon the Future’… And saw its pictured prophecies un… I saw that magical life-laden trai… Flash its long glories o’er Nebra… I saw it smoothly up the mountain…