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

Once on a time, so ancient poets s… There reigned in Godknowswhere a… So great a monarch ne’er before wa… He was a hero, even to his queen, In whose respect he held so high a…

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

Tut-tut! give back the flags - how… You veterans and heroes? Why should you at a kind intention… Like twenty Neros? Suppose the act was not so overwis…

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

Erected to 'Boss’ Shepherd by the… Good folk he lived and moved among… Guarded on either hand by the poli… With soldiers in his front and in…

Did I believe the angels soon wou… You, my beloved, to the other shor… And I should never see you any mo… I love you so I know that I shoul… Into dejection utterly, and all

His caw is a cackle, his eye is di… And he mopes all day on the lowest… Not a word says he, but he snaps h… And twitches his palsied head, as… The ultimate plume of his pride an…

Your various talents, Goldenson,… Respect: you are a poet and can dr… It is a pity that your gifted hand Should ever have been raised again… If you had drawn no pistol, but a…

Be pleased, O Lord, to take a peo… That Thine avenging sword has spa… That Thou hast parted from our li… And forced our neighbors’ lips to… Father of Mercies, with a heart c…

Despots effete upon tottering thro… Unsteadily poised upon dead men’s… Walk up! walk up! the circus is fr… And this wonderful spectacle you s… Millions of voters who mostly are…

Not all in sorrow and in tears, To pay of gratitude’s arrears The yearly sum Not prompted, wholly by the pride Of those for whom their friends ha…

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…

De Young (in Chicago the story is… ‘Took his life in his hand,’ like… And stood before Buckley-who thou… For Buckley, the man-eating monst… ‘Count fairly the ballots!’ so ran…

The rimer quenches his unheeded fi… The sound surceases and the sense… Then the domestic dog, to east and… Expounds the passions burning in h… The rising moon o’er that enchante…