#AmericanWriters
Because that I am weak, my love,… I cannot follow the impatient feet Of my desire, but sit and watch th… Of the unpitying pendulum fulfill The hour appointed for the air to…
A is defrauded of his land by B, Who’s driven from the premises by… D buys the place with coin of plun… 'That A’s an Anarchist!' says F…
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…
Says England to Germany: 'Africa… Says Germany: ‘Ours, I opine.’ Says Africa: 'Tell me, delectable… What is it that ought to be mine?'
‘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…
I’m a gorgeous golden hero And my trade is taking life. Hear the twittle-twittle-tweero Of my sibillating fife And the rub-a-dub-a-dum
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
‘Twas a weary-looking mortal, and… Of the melancholy City of the Dis… He was pale and worn exceeding and… As if it could not matter what he… ’Sacred stranger’-I addressed him…
Welcome, good friend; as you have… And found the joy of crime to be a… I hope you’ll hold your present fa… And not again be open to convictio… Your sins, though scarlet once, ar…
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.
John S. Hittell, whose sovereign… The quill his tributary body yield… The author of an opera-that is, All but the music and libretto’s h… A work renowned, whose formidable…
That land full surely hastens to i… Where public sycophants in homage… The populace to flatter, and repea… The doubled echoes of its loud con… Lowly their attitude but high thei…
Running for Senator with clumsy p… He stooped so low, to win at least… That Fortune, tempted by a mark s… Sprang in an kicked him to the win…
Nay, Peter Robertson, 'tis not fo… To blubber o’er Max Taubles for h… By Heaven! my hearty, if you only… How better is a grave-worm in the… Than brains like yours-how far mor…
Beneath his coat of dirt great Ne… To hide the avenging rope. He handles all he touches without… Excepting soap.