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…

Saint Peter, standing at the Gate… A soul whose body Death had latel… A pleasant soul as ever was, he se… His step was joyous and his visage… ‘Good morning, Peter.’ There was…

Ira P. Rankin, you’ve a nasal nam… I’ll sound it through ‘the speakin… And wondering nations, hearing fro… The brazen twang of its resounding… Shall say: ‘These bards are an un…

Standing within the triple wall of… And flattening his nose against a… Behind whose brazen bars he’d had… A thousand million ages to that da… Stoneman bewailed his melancholy f…

Sharon, ambitious of immortal sham… Fame’s dead-wall daubed with his i… Served in the Senate, for our sin… Each word a folly and each vote a… Law for our governance well skille…

Ere Gabriel’s note to silence die… All graves of men were gaping wide… Then Charles A. Dana, of ‘The S… Rose slowly from the deepest one. ‘The dead in Christ rise first, ’…

Come, sisters, weep!-our Baron de… Alas! has run away. If always we had kept him here He had not gone astray. Painter and grainer it were vain

Munhall, to save my soul you brave… Although, to save my soul, I can’… ‘Tis naught to you, to me however… Why, bless it! you might save a mi… Yet lose your own; for still the ’…

‘O son of mine age, these eyes los… Be eyes, I pray, to thy dying sir… ‘O father, fear not, for mine eyes… I read through a millstone at dead… ‘My son, O tell me, who are those…

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…

‘Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday. Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay? He lifts his head, he laughs aloud…

I lay in silence, dead. A woman c… And laid a rose upon my breast, an… ‘May God be merciful.’ She spoke… And added, ‘It is strange to thin… ’He loved me well enough, but ‘t w…

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…

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…

He lay on his bed and solemnly ‘si… Gasping-perhaps ‘twas a jest he me… ’This of a sound and disposing min… Is the last ill-will and contestam…