That if they have not ‘Faith,’ they’ll goHeadlong to Hades.Faith is belief; and how can IHave that by being willing?This dime I cannot, though I try,Believe a shilling.Perhaps you can. If so, pray do-Believe you own it, also.But what seems evidence to youI may not call so.Heaven knows I’d like the Faith to thinkThis little…
D buys the place with coin of plundered E.‘That A’s an Anarchist!’ says F to G.
I write in many an idle way,Thinking one serious thought.‘O flowers, a fine Greek name ye bear,And with a fine Greek grace.’Be still, O heart, that turns to shareThe sunshine of a face.‘Have ye no messages-no brief,Still sign: ‘Despair’, or ‘Hope’?’A sudden stir of stem and leaf-A breath of heliotrope!
I heard above my fleshless headThe grinding of a spade.A gruffer note ensued and grewTo harsh and harsher strains:The poet Welcker then I knewWas ‘snatching’ my remains.‘O Welcker, let your hand be stayedAnd leave me here in peace.Of your revenge you should have madeAn end with my decease.’‘Hush, Mouldyshanks, and hear my moan:I once, as…
And I was to pay you in rhyme.Although I am loth to inflict yourMost easy of consciences, I’mOf opinion that fibbing is awful,And breaking a contract unlawful,Indictable, too, as a crime,A slight and all that.If, Lady Unbountiful, anyOf thatBy mortals called pity has partIn your obdurate soul-if a pennyYou care for the health of my…
With a notable knack at rhetorical boshTo glorify somebody’s nameSomebody chosen by Tuckerton’s mastersTo succor the country from divers disastersPortentous to Mr. Mahosh.Percy O’Halloran Tarpy CabeeIs in the political swim.He cares not a button for men, not he:Great principles captivate himPrinciples cleverly cut out and fittedTo Percy’s capacity, duly submitted,And fought for by Mr. Cabee.Drusus…
Beneath, in Sabbath garments fitly clad,With pious mien, appropriately sad,While all the church bells made a solemn din —A fire-alarm to those who lived in sin.Then saw I gazing thoughtfully below,With tranquil face, upon that holy showA tall, spare figure in a robe of white,Whose eyes diffused a melancholy light.‘God keep you, stranger,’ I exclaimed….
WITH saintly grace and reverent treadShe walked among the graves with me;Her every footfall seemed to beA benediction on the dead.The guardian spirit of the placeShe seemed, and I some ghost forlorn,Surprised by the untimely mornShe made with her resplendent face.Moved by some waywardness of will,Three paces from the path apartShe stepped and stood—my prescient…
The Moslem smiled securely and replied:‘No Greek has ever for his country dyed.’While thus each patriot guarded his frontier,The Powers stole all the country in his rear.
They’re always coming, but they never goLike funeral pageants, as they drone and humTheir lurid nonsense like a muffled drum,Or bagpipe’s dread unnecessary flow.But one superb tormentor I can showPrince Fiddlefaddle, Duc de Feefawfum.He the johndonkey is who, when I penAmorous verses in an idle moodTo nobody, or of her, reads them throughAnd, smirking, says…
