The Height of the Ridiculous by Oliver Wendell Holmes

"The house was crammed from roof to floor,     Heads piled on heads at every door;     Half dead with August's seething heat     I crowded on an"

"Yon whey-faced brother, who delights to wear     A weedy flux of ill-conditioned hair,     Seems of the sort that in a crowded place     One el"

""How many have gone?" was the question of old     Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;     Alas! for too often the death-bell has toll"

"We count the broken lyres that rest     Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,     But o'er their silent sister's breast     The wild-flowers"

"‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad At the falling of the year, When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad, When the boughs are yellow and sere?"

"I Ay, it is fitting on this holiday, Commemorative of our soldier dead, When -- with sweet flowers of our New England May Hiding the lichened stones"