McDonald Clarke Poems

Do you call me poor, you slugger,
Won't posterity let me hug her,
And won't she hug me back again?
Isn't my pen
...

'Mid the half-lit air, and the lonely place,
Rose the buried Pleasures of perish'd years.
I saw the Past, with her pallid face,
...

LOVE knock'd one night, at a Gentleman's heart,
When his passions were snug asleep;
But they all jumped up, with a terrible start,
...