#AmericanWriters
Horace: Book II, Elegy 8 “Eripitur nobis iam pridem cara pu… While she I loved is being torn From arms that held her many years… Dost thou regard me, friend, with…
(There is said to be a steady dema… in England. There are readers who… sedative for tired nerves; there a… Trollope’s quiet humour. Some peo… James’s tangled syntax the restful…
(The man who wants the perfect wif… ‘stock-size.’ She comes cheaper.-_… Ah, Myrtilla, woe and dear me! Lackadaydee and alas! What is this, I greatly fear me,
The Passionate Householder to his… Come, live with us and be our cook… And we will all the whimsies brook That German, Irish, Swede, and S… And all the dear domestics have.
Horace: Epode 25 “Nox erat et cælo fulgebat Luna… How sweet the moonlight sleeps,"… “Upon this bank!” that starry nigh… The night you vowed you’d be devot…
Before I was a travelled bird, I scoffed, in my provincial way, At other lands; I deemed absurd All nations but these U.S.A. And—although Middle-Western born—
“Gentle Jane was as good as gold,… To borrow a line from Mr. Gilbert… She hated War with a hate untold, She was a pacifistic filbert. If you said “Perhaps”—she’d leave…
Writers of baseball, attention! When you’re again on the job– When, in your rage for invention, You with the language play hob– Most of your dope we will pardon,
Horace: Book III, Ode 15 “Uxor pauperis Ibyci, Tandem nequiti4ae2 fige modum tu4a… IN CHLORIN Dear Mrs. Ibycus, accept a little…
“Oh bard,” I said, “your verse is… The shackles that encumber me, The fetters that are my obsession, Are never gyves to your expression… ”The fear of falsities in rhyme,
AD ARIUSTUM FUSCUM Horace: Book I, Ode 22. ‘_Integer vitae sclerisque purus_'… _Take it from me: A guy who’s squ… His chances always are the best.
“This war is a terrible thing,” he… “With its countless numbers of nee… A futile warfare it seems to me, Fought for no principle I can see… Alas, that thousands of hearts sho…
Horace: Book I, Ode 11 “Tu ne quaesieris—scire nefas —quem mihi; quem tibi—” AD LEUCONOEN Nay querry not, Leuconoë, the fin…
Yesterday afternoon, while I was… A gust of wind blew my hat off. I swore, petulantly, but somewhat… A young woman had been near, walki… She must have heard me, I thought…
Jenny kissed me in a dream; So did Elsie, Lucy, Cora, Bessie, Gwendolyn, Eupheme, Alice, Adelaide, and Dora. Say of honour I’m devoid,