#AmericanWriters
Ira P. Rankin, you’ve a nasal nam… I’ll sound it through ‘the speakin… And wondering nations, hearing fro… The brazen twang of its resounding… Shall say: ‘These bards are an un…
Two villains of the highest rank Set out one night to rob a bank. They found the building, looked it… Each window noted, tried each door… Scanned carefully the lidded hole
Of life’s elixir I had writ, when… (Pray Heaven it spared him who th… Settled upon my senses with so dee… A stupefaction that men thought me… The centuries stole by with noisel…
The Widows of Ashur Are loud in their wailing: ‘No longer the ’masher’ Sees Widows of Ashur!' So each is a lasher
Well, Mr. Kemble, you are called,… A great divine, and I’m a great p… You as a Congregationalist blink Some certain truths that I esteem… And dropp them in the coffers of m…
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…
San Quentin was brilliant. Within… Of the noble pile with the frownin… (God knows they’ve enough to make… With a Governor trying to break t… Was a blaze of light. ‘Twas the n…
The trumpet sounded and the dead Came forth from earth and ocean, And Pickering arose and sped Aloft with wobbling motion. ‘What makes him fly lop-sided?’ cr…
Lo! the wild rabbit, happy in the… Of qualities to meaner beasts deni… Surveys the ass with reverence and… Adoring his superior length of ear… And says: ‘No living creature, le…
So, Parson Stebbins, you’ve relea… To say that here, and here, we pre… 'Tis a great thing an editor to sk… And hang his faulty pelt upon a na… (If over-eared, it has, at least,…
LORING PICKERING _(After Pope)_ Here rests a writer, great but not… Born destitute of feeling and of s… No power he but o’er his brain des…
‘Let music flourish!’ So he said… Hark! ere he’s gone the minstrelsy… The symphonies ascend, a swelling… Melodious thunders fill the welkin… The grand old lawyers, chinning on…
Day of Satan’s painful duty! Dies… Earth shall vanish, hot and sooty;… So says Virtue, so says Beauty.… Ah! what terror shall be shaping… When the Judge the truth’s undrap…
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…
The soft asphaltum in the sun; Betrays a tendency to run; Whereas the dog that takes his way Across its course concludes to sta…