#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
Mackay’s hot wrath to Bonynge, di… Of blows unnumbered, heavenly godd… That wrath which hurled to Hellma… Two heroes, mutually smeared with… Whose hair in handfuls marked the…
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…
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…
Grief for an absent lover, husband… Is barely felt before it comes to… A score of early consolations serv… To modify its mouth’s dejected cur… But woes of creditors when debtors…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. MOUNTWAVE _a Politician_ HARDHAND _a Workingman_ TOK BAK _a Chinaman_ SATAN _a Friend to Mountwave_
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…
A merry Christmas? Prudent, as I… You wish me something that you nee… Merry or sad, what does it signify… To you 't is equal if I laugh, or… Your hollow greeting, like a parro…
The Widows of Ashur Are loud in their wailing: ‘No longer the ’masher’ Sees Widows of Ashur!' So each is a lasher
Once I seen a human ruin In a elevator-well. And his members was bestrewin’ All the place where he had fell. And I says, apostrophisin’
Says Gerald Massey: ‘When I writ… Of souls of the departed guides my… How strange that poems cumbering o… Penned by immortal parts, have non…
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,
Nightly I put up this humble peti… ‘Forgive me, O Father of Glories… My sins of commission, my sins of… My sins of the Mission Dolores.’
Christmas, you tell me, comes but… One place it never comes, and that… Here, in these pages no good wishe… No well-worn greetings tediously r… For Christmas greetings are like…
Now Lonergan appears upon the boa… And Truth and Error sheathe their… No more in wordy warfare to engage… The commentators bow before the st… And bookworms, militant for ages p…