He’s right or wrong; he answers you
  According to your folly,
And says what you have taught him to,
    Like any polly.

AN EPITAPH

Hangman’s hands laid in this tomb an
  Imp of Satan’s getting, whom an
Ancient legend says that woman
  Never bore—­he owed his birth
  To Sin herself.  From Hell to Earth
  She brought the brat in secret state
  And 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 other
Playful ways begot his mother.

A SPADE

    [The spade that was used to turn the first sod in the
    construction of the Central Pacific Railroad is to be
    exhibited at the New Orleans Exposition.—­Press Telegram.]

Precursor of our woes, historic spade,
What dismal records burn upon thy blade! 
On thee I see the maculating stains
Of passengers’ commingled blood and brains. 
In this red rust a widow’s curse appears,
And here an orphan tarnished thee with tears. 
Upon thy handle sanguinary bands
Reveal the clutching of thine owner’s hands
When first he wielded thee with vigor brave
To cut a sod and dig a people’s grave—­
(For they who are debauched are dead and ought,
In God’s name, to be hid from sight and thought.)
Within thee, as within a magic glass,
I seem to see a foul procession pass—­
Judges with ermine dragging in the mud
And spotted here and there with guiltless blood;
Gold-greedy legislators jingling bribes;
Kept editors and sycophantic scribes;
Liars in swarms and plunderers in tribes;
They fade away before the night’s advance,
And fancy figures thee a devil’s lance
Gleaming portentous through the misty shade,
While ghosts of murdered virtues shriek about my blade!

THE VAN NESSIAD

From end to end, thine avenue, Van Ness,
Rang with the cries of battle and distress! 
Brave lungs were thundering with dreadful sound
And perspiration smoked along the ground! 
Sing, heavenly muse, to ears of mortal clay,
The meaning, cause and finish of the fray.

Great Porter Ashe (invoking first the gods,
Who signed their favor with assenting nods
That snapped off half their heads—­their necks grown dry
Since last the nectar cup went circling by)
Resolved to build a stable on his lot,
His neighbors fiercely swearing he should not. 
Said he:  “I build that stable!” “No, you don’t,”
Said they.  “I can!” “You can’t!” “I will!” “You won’t!”
“By heaven!” he swore; “not only will I build,
But purchase donkeys till the place is filled!”
“Needless expense,” they sneered in tones of ice—­
“The owner’s self, if lodged there, would suffice.” 
For three long months the awful war they waged: 
With women, women, men with men engaged,
While roaring babes and shrilling poodles raged!