Tempura Mutantur (James Russell Lowell Poems)
The world turns mild; democracy, they say,Rounds the sharp knobs of character away,And no great harm, unless at grave expenseOf ...
The world turns mild; democracy, they say,Rounds the sharp knobs of character away,And no great harm, unless at grave expenseOf ...
To the rooms where I am dining in the glaring city's dayCome the happy honeymooners from the country far away,Two ...
Not till the freezing blast is still,Till freely leaps the sparkling rill,And gales sweep soft from summer skies,As o'er a ...
You can shuffle and scuffle and scold, You can rattle the knockers and knobs,Or batter the doorsteps with buckets of gold Till ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE (wailing dismally):"Who can deliver us, Lord of our destiny! Out of the depths comes our passionate ...
The Honourable TORYPHAT addressed the meeting: 'Hem!(Prolonged applause.) Ah - Mistah Chairman, gentlemen. To stemThe tide of Socialism - rabid ...
It's hard when fowks can't finnd their wark Wheer they've bin bred an' born; When I were young ...
Once upon a time, in days remote,A politician bought a vote. The price he paid is not quite clear, But ...
Borrowin' over the water; I've seen it all beforeRaisin' loans (said Old George Jones) Was a trick we learned of ...
Under the spreading deficit,The Fitzroy Smithy stands;The smith, a spendthrift man is he,With too much on his hands;But the muscles ...
Make no mistake; there will be no forgiveness; No voice can harm you and no hand will save; Fenced by ...
The wind blew out from Bergen, from the dawning to the day There was a wreck of trees, a fall ...
But do not let us quarrel any more, No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once: Sit down and all ...
Under the spreading deficit, The Fitzroy Smithy stands; The smith, a spendthrift man is he, With too much on his ...
All they said was true: I wrecked my father's bank with my loans To dabble in wheat; but this was ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
To-day the woods are trembling through and through With shimmering forms, that flash before my view, Then melt in green ...
That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He'd swear with a hundred sighs ...
I was drivin' my two-mule waggin, With a lot o' truck for sale, Towards Macon, to git some baggin' (Which ...
I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones, Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones, And ...
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