Boruck and Waterman upon their gr… In Hades lay, with many a sigh an… Hotly disputing, for each swore hi… Were clearly keener than the other… And, truly, each had much to boast…

Wallace, created on a noble plan To show us that a Judge can be a… Through moral mire exhaling mortal… God-guided sweet and foot-clean to… In salutation here and sign I lif…

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…

How blest the land that counts amo… Her sons so many good and wise, To execute great feats of tongue When troubles rise. Behold them mounting every stump,

Your influence, my friend, has gat… To east and west its tides encroac… There’ll be, on all God’s foot-st… No clean spot left for God to set…

Of a person known as Peters I wil… An unusual adventure into narrativ… Mr. William Perry Peters, of the… A public educator and an orator as… Mr. Peters had a weakness which,…

Baffled he stands upon the track The automatic switches clack. Where’er he turns his solemn eyes The interlocking signals rise. The trains, before his visage pale…

O statesmen, what would you be at, With torches, flags and bands? You make me first throw up my hat, And then my hands.

The Widows of Ashur Are loud in their wailing: ‘No longer the ’masher’ Sees Widows of Ashur!' So each is a lasher

Here sleeps one of the greatest st… Of jurisprudence. Nature endowed him with the gift Of the juristhrift. All points of law alike he threw

‘The world is dull,’ I cried in m… ‘Its myths and fables are no longe… ’Roll back thy centuries, O Fathe… To Greece transport me in her gol… 'Give back the beautiful old Gods…

Because you call yourself Knights… There’s neither Knight nor Temple… Because you thus by vain pretense… To paltry purposes traditions gran… Because to cheat the ignorant you…

Of life’s elixir I had writ, when… (Pray Heaven it spared him who th… Settled upon my senses with so dee… A stupefaction that men thought me… The centuries stole by with noisel…

‘Lothario is very low,’ So all the doctors tell. Nay, nay, not _so_-he will be, tho… If ever he get well.

To a hunter from the city, Overtaken by the night, Spake, in tones of tender pity For himself, an aged wight: ‘I have found the world a fountain