Its giant petals royally displayed,
And casting half the landscape into shade;
Delivering its odors, like the blows
Of some strong slugger, at the public nose;
Pride of two Nations-for a single State
Would scarce suffice to sprout a plant so great;
So Leverson’s humility, outgrown
The meaner virtues that he deigns to own,
To the high skies its great corolla rears,
O’ertopping all he has except his ears.
That a universal chillingShould ensueOf the sentiment of loving,If they made a great undoingOf the plan of turtle-doving,Then farewell all poet-lore,Evermore.If there were no more of billingThere would be no more of cooingAnd we all should be but owlsLonely fowlsBlinking wonderfully wise,With our great round eyesSitting singly in the gloaming and no longer two and…
Urged all the fiery boycotters afieldAnd swore you’d rather follow them than yield,Alas, how brief the time, how great the change!Your dogs of war are ailing all of mange;The loose leash dangles from your finger-tips,But the loud ‘havoc’ dies upon your lips.No spirit animates your feeble clayYou’d rather yield than even run away.In vain McGlashan…
To show that you are many things besideA Chilean Consul with a tempting hide;But what they are I hardly could explainWithout afflicting you with mental pain.Your name (gods! what a name the muse to wooSuggesting cats, and hinting kittens, too!)Points to an origin-perhaps Maltese,Perhaps Angoran-where the wicked ceaseFrom fiddling, and the animals that growThe strings…
Yet never ask some luckless sinnerWho needs, as I do not, a dinner?
Adore no images save thoseThe coinage of thy country shows.Take not the Name in vain. DirectThy swearing unto some effect.Thy hand from Sunday work be held–Work not at all unless compelled.Honor thy parents, and perchanceTheir wills thy fortunes may advance.Kill not–death liberates thy foeFrom persecution’s constant woe.Kiss not thy neighbor’s wife. Of courseThere’s no objection…
Frank Pixley’s meeting with George Gorham sing,Celestial muse, and what events did springFrom the encounter of those mighty sonsOf thunder, and of slaughter, and of guns.Great Gorham first, his yearning tooth to sateAnd give him stomach for the day’s debate,Entering a restaurant, with eager mien,Demands an ounce of bacon and a bean.The trembling waiter, by…
