The Blue Horizon wuz a mine us fe… And there befell the episode I no… 'T wuz in the year uv sixty-nine,—… There hove in sight one afternoon… His name wuz Silas Pettibone,—a’…

O Lady Fortune! 't is to thee I… Dwelling at Antium, thou hast pow… The veriest clod with riches and r… And change a triumph to a funeral The tillers of the soil and they t…

TO MISS GRACE KING Down in the old French quarter, Just out of Rampart street, I wend my way At close of day

When I was broke in London in the… I chanced to spy in Oxford Street… ‘A Splendid Horace cheap for Cas… Upon the vaunted bargain, and it w… A finer one I ‘ve never seen, nor…

One day upon a topmost shelf I found a precious prize indeed, Which father used to read himself, But did not want us boys to read; A brown old book of certain age

Out on the mountain over the town, All night long, all night long, The trolls go up and the trolls go… Bearing their packs and singing a… And this is the song the hill-folk…

Shall I woo the one or other? Both attract me—more’s the pity! Pretty is the widowed mother, And the daughter, too, is pretty. When I see that maiden shrinking,

It’s when the birds go piping and… That, clamoring for his dinner, ou… Then it’s sleep no more for baby,… For, when he wants his dinner, why… And of that lacteal fluid he parta…

Thar showed up out’n Denver in th… A man who’d worked with Dana on t… His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, ‘n… Ez he walked inter the orfice ’nd… Thar warn’t no places vacant then,…

Away down East where I was reared… There used to live a pretty girl w… And though it’s many years since l… And though I feel I’m sadly worn… Still, oftentimes, I think about…

‘Sweetheart, take this,’ a soldier… 'And bid me brave good-by; It may befall we ne’er shall wed, But love can never die. Be steadfast in thy troth to me,

To-day I strayed in Charing Cros… With thinking of my home and frien… There was no water in my eyes, but… And my heart lay like a sodden, so… This way and that streamed multitu…

I say, as one who never feared The wrath of a subscriber’s bullet… I pity him who has a beard But has no little girl to pull it! When wife and I have finished tea…

As beats the sun from mountain cre… With 'pretty, pretty’, Cometh the partridge from her nest… The flowers threw kisses sweet to… (For all the flowers that bloomed…

In the market of Clare, so cheery… Of the shops and the booths of the… That I take a delight on a Saturd… In walking that way and in viewing… For it’s here that one sees all th…