#AmericanWriters
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…
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,
Editor Owen, of San Jose, Commonly known as ‘our friend J.J… Weary of scribbling for daily brea… Weary of writing what nobody read, Slept one day at his desk and drea…
Cried Allen Forman: 'Doctor, pra… Compose my spirits’ strife: O what may be my chances, say, Of living all my life? ‘For lately I have dreamed of hig…
The way was long, the hill was ste… My footing scarcely I could keep. The night enshrouded me in gloom, I heard the ocean’s distant boom The trampling of the surges vast
Come, Stanford, let us sit at eas… And talk as old friends do. You talk of anything you please, And I will talk of you. You recently have said, I hear,
I had a dream. The habitable eart… Its continents and islands, all we… Of cities and of forests. Naught… Of its old aspect, and I only kne… (As men know things in dreams, unk…
O, justice, you have fled, to dwel… In Mexico, unstrangled, Lest you should hang as high as-we… As Haman dangled. (I know not if his cord he twanged…
The Swan of Avon died-the Swan Of Sacramento’ll soon be gone; And when his death-song he shall c… Stand back, or it will kill you to…
Judge Shafter, you’re an aged man… And learned too, I doubt not, in… And a head white with many a winte… (I wish, however that your heart w… Claims reverence and honor; but th…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. MOUNTWAVE _a Politician_ HARDHAND _a Workingman_ TOK BAK _a Chinaman_ SATAN _a Friend to Mountwave_
As some enormous violet that tower… Colossal o’er the heads of lowlier… Its giant petals royally displayed… And casting half the landscape int… Delivering its odors, like the blo…
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…
False to his art and to the high c… God laid upon him, Markham’s rebe… Beats all in vain the harp he touc… It yields a jingle and it yields n… No more the strings beneath his fi…
Aeronaut, you’re fairly caught, Despite your bubble’s leaven: Out of the skies a lady’s eyes Have brought you down to Heaven! No more, no more you’ll freely soa…