‘And ours a Christian Navy,’ added he
Who sailed a thunder-junk upon the sea.
Better they know than men unwarlike do
What is an army and a navy, too.
Pray God there may be sent them by-and-by
The knowledge what a Christian is, and why.
For somewhat lamely the conception runs
Of a brass-buttoned Jesus firing guns.
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Why ask me, Gastrogogue, to dine
Yet never ask some luckless sinnerWho needs, as I do not, a dinner?
Not all in sorrow and in tears,
The yearly sumNot prompted, wholly by the prideOf those for whom their friends have died,To-day we come.Another aim we have in viewThan for the buried boys in blueTo dropp a tear:Memorial Day revives the chinOf Barnes, and Salomon chimes inThat’s why we’re here.And when in after-ages theyShall pass, like mortal men, away,Their war-song sung,Then fame…
‘What are those, father?’ ‘Statesmen, my child
‘What are they that way for, father?’ ‘Last fall,‘Our candidate’s better,’ they said, ‘than all!”‘What did they say he was, father?’ ‘A manBuilt on a straight incorruptible plan-Believing that none for an office would doUnless he were honest and capable too.’‘Poor gentlemen-_so_ disappointed!’ ‘Yes, lad,That is the feeling that’s driving them mad;They’re weeping and wailing…
So, Estee, you are still alive! I thought
I know at least your coffin once was boughtWith Railroad money; and ’twas said by mostHistorians that Stanford made a boastThe seller ‘threw you in.’ That goes for naughtMan takes delight in fancy’s fine inventions,And woman too, ’tis said, if they are French ones.Do you remember, Estee-ah, ’twas longAnd long ago!-how fierce you grew and…
Thy gift, if that it be of God,
Nor say: ‘Here part, O Muse, our ways,The road too stony to be trod.’Not thine to call the labor hardAnd the reward inadequate.Who haggles o’er his hire with FateIs better bargainer than bard.What! count the effort labor lostWhen thy good angel holds the reed?It were a sorry thing indeedTo stay him till thy palm be…
Hangman’s hands laid in this tomb an
Ancient legend says that womanNever bore-he owed his birthTo Sin herself. From Hell to EarthShe brought the brat in secret stateAnd laid him at the Golden gate,And they named him Henry Vrooman.While with mortals here he stayed,His father frequently he played.Raised his birth-place and in otherPlayful ways begot his mother.