#AmericanWriters
Dimly apparent, through the gloom Of Market-street’s opaque simoom, A queue of people, parti-sexed, Awaiting the command of ‘Next!’ A sidewalk booth, a dingy sign:
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
Here lies Greer Harrison, a well… So small a tenant of so big a hous… He joyed in fighting with his eyes… Prudently pendent from a peaceful… And loved to loll on the Parnassi…
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
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,…
Posterity with all its eyes Will come and view him where he li… Then, turning from the scene away With a concerted shrug, will say: 'H’m, Scarabaeus Sisyphus
As through the blue expanse he ski… On joyous wings, the late Frank Hutchings overtakes Miss S… Both bound for Heaven’s high gate… In life they loved and (God knows…
Precursor of our woes, historic sp… What dismal records burn upon thy… On thee I see the maculating stai… Of passengers’ commingled blood an… In this red rust a widow’s curse a…
What! imitate me, friend? Suppose… With agony and difficulty do What I do easily-what then? You’v… A style I heartily wish _I_ had n… If I from lack of sense and you f…
Ben Bulger was a silver man, Though not a mine had he: He thought it were a noble plan To make the coinage free. 'There hain’t for years been sech…
Professor dear, I think it queer That all these good religions ('Twixt you and me, some two or th… Are schemes for plucking pigeons) I mean 'tis strange that every cha…
Upon my desk a single spray, With starry blossoms fraught. I write in many an idle way, Thinking one serious thought. ‘O flowers, a fine Greek name ye…
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…
It is a politician man He draweth near his end, And friends weep round that partis… Of every man the friend. Between the Known and the Unknown
The pig is taught by sermons and e… To think the God of Swine has sno… Judibras.