Oh, who in creation would fail to descend That wonderful hole in the ground? - That, feeling its way like a hypocrite-friend In sinuous fashion, seems never to end; While thunder and lightning abound. ...
Midway upon the lawn it stands, So picturesque and pretty; Upreared by patient artist hands, Admired of all the city; The very arbor of my dream, A covert cool and airy,...
Sometimes I long to write an ode And magnify his name, The man of honor, on the road To opulence and fame, On whom was never aid bestowed By any helpful dame. ...