Weep, weep, each loyal partisan, For Buckley, king of hearts; A most accomplished man; a man Of parts-of foreign parts. Long years he ruled with gentle sw…

Who told Creed Haymond he was wit… Had nothing better in this world t… Could no greased pig’s appeal to h… Kindle his ardor for the friendly… Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,

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…

Hear me sing of Sally Larkin who,… Played accordions as well as any l… And I’ve often heard it stated th… That Professor Schweinenhauer was… And that beasts were so affected w…

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…

In contact, lo! the flint and stee… By sharp and flame, the thought re… That he the metal, she the stone, Had cherished secretly alone.

It is pleasant to think, as I’m w… A-drying along my paper, That a monument fine will surely b… When death has extinguished my tap… From each rhyming scribe of the jo…

Judge Armstrong, when the poor ha… To be released from vows that they… In haste, and leisurely repented,… As stern as Rhadamanthus (Minos t… And AEeacus) have drawn your fier…

That from _you_, neighbor! to whos… Each rhyming literary knacker scou… His cart-compelling Pegasus to tr… As folly, fame or famine smartly u… Admonished by the stimulating goad…

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…

Sir Impycu Lackland, from over th… Has led to the altar Miss Bloatie… The wedding took place at the Chu… The fashion, the rank and the weal… No person was absent of all whom o…

Sleep fell upon my senses and I d… Long years had circled since my li… The world was different, and all t… Remote and strange, like noises to… And one great Voice there was; an…

Running for Senator with clumsy p… He stooped so low, to win at least… That Fortune, tempted by a mark s… Sprang in an kicked him to the win…

I’ve sometimes wished that Ingers… To hold his tongue, nor rail again… For when he’s made a point some pi… Like Bartlett of the _Bulletin_ ‘… I brandish no iconoclastic fist,

Och! Father McGlynn, Ye appear to be in Fer a bit of a bout wid the Pope; An’ there’s divil a doubt But he’s knockin’ ye out