There’ll be, on all God’s foot-stool, when they meet,
No clean spot left for God to set His feet.
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Goldenson hanged! Well, Heaven forbid
Though truth to tell, I never didExactly love him.It can’t be wrong, though, to rejoiceThat his unpleasing capersAre ended. Silent is his voiceIn all the papers.No longer he’s a show: no more,Bear-like, his den he’s walking.No longer can he hold the floorWhen I’d be talking.The laws that govern jails are badIf such displays are lawful.The…
Aeronaut, you’re fairly caught,
Out of the skies a lady’s eyesHave brought you down to Heaven!No more, no more you’ll freely soarAbove the grass and gravel:Henceforth you’ll walk-and she will chalkThe line that you’re to travel!
FITCH:
So all the papers say.’PICKERING:‘Ah, what vile calumnies are penned!-‘Tis just the other way.’
Dull were the days and sober,
For the season was sad OctoberAnd a dirge was in the air.The mated starlings flew overTo the isles of the southern sea.She wept for her warrior loverWept and exclaimed: ‘Ah, me!‘Long years have I mourned my darlingIn his battle-bed at rest;And it’s O, to be a starling,With a mate to share my nest!’The angels pitied…
The Senate woke; the Chairman’s snore
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Ah, welcome, welcome! Sit you down, old friend;
‘Tis many a year since you and I have knownSociety more pleasant than our ownIn our brief respites from excessive workI pointing out the hearts for you to dirk.What have you done since lately at this boardWe canvassed the deserts of all the hordeAnd chose what names would please the people best,Engraved on coffin-plates-what bounding…