#AmericanWriters
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…
O Buddha, had you but foreknown The vices of your priesthood It would have made you twist and m… As any wounded beast would. You would have damned the entire l…
Welcker, I’m told, can boast a fa… And honored in the service of the… Public Instruction all his mind e… He guides its methods and its wage… Prime Pedagogue, imperious and gr…
To Parmentier Parisians raise A statue fine and large: He cooked potatoes fifty ways, Nor ever led a charge. '_Palmam qui meruit’_-the rest
I know not if it was a dream. I v… A city where the restless multitud… Between the eastern and the wester… Had reared gigantic fabrics, stron… Colossal palaces crowned every hei…
‘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…
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…
Thus the poor ass whose appetite h… Known than the thistle any sweeter… Thinks all the world eats thistles… The wit and Mentor of the country… Grins through the collar of a hors…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. ST. JOHN _a Presidential Candi… MCDONALD _a Defeated Aspirant… MRS. HAYES _an Ex-President_ PITTS-STEVENS _a Water Nymp…
I died. As meekly in the earth I… With shriveled fingers reverently… The worm-uncivil engineer!-my clay Tunneled industriously, and the mo… My body could not dodge them, but…
Let slaves and subjects with unvar… Before their sovereign execute sal… The freeman scorns one idol to ado… Tom, Dick and Harry and himself a…
Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen, The wisest and the best of men, Betook him to the place where sat With folded feet upon a mat Of precious stones beneath a palm,
'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…
What! photograph in colors? 'Tis… And he who dreams it is not overwi… If colors are vibration they but s… And have no being. But if Tyndall… Why, come, then-photograph my lady…
I’d long been dead, but I returne… Some small affairs posterity was m… A mess of, and I came to see that… Received its dues. I’d hardly fin… The grave-mould still upon me, whe…