who wrote rip van winkle?
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Rip van Winkle was a posthumous writing of Diedrich Knickerbocker, discovered and translated into English by Washington Irving.
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Verse-Making Was Least of My Virtues - written by Robert Browning.  I cannot find out when it was published. Here's my search terms.  \n1) Yahoo http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=%22Verse-Making+Was+Least+of+My+Virtues%22+Robert+Browning&sm=Yahoo%21+Search&fr=FP-tab-web-t&toggle=1&cop=&ei=UTF-8\n2) Google http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rls=GGLJ,GGLJ:2006-08,GGLJ:en&q=%22Verse%2dMaking+Was+Least+of+My+Virtues%22+Robert+Browning\n\nStill looking for you ....
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"Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,\nThe band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,\nAnd somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;\nBut there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out."\n\nCasey At Bat is one of my favorite baseball poems. I even wrote a similar one called "Casey at bat, the other side of the story" telling the story of the team that beat mudville and the closer (John Smoltz) who got the save.\nBelow is the entire poem by Earnest Lawrence Thayer\n\nCasey at Bat\n\nThe outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;\nThe score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,\nAnd then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,\nA sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.\n\nA straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest\nClung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;\nThey thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that —\nWe'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."\n\nBut Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,\nAnd the former was a Looloo, while the latter was a cake;\nSo upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat;\nFor there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.\n\nBut Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,\nAnd Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;\nAnd when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,\nThere was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.\n\nThen from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;\nIt rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;\nIt knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,\nFor Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.\n\nThere was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;\nThere was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.\nAnd when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,\nNo stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.\n\nTen thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.\nFive thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.\nThen while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,\nDefiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.\n\nAnd now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,\nAnd Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.\nClose by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped —\n"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.\n\nFrom the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,\nLike the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;\n"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;\nAnd it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.\n\nWith a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;\nHe stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;\nHe signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;\nBut Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said "Strike two!"\n\n"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"\nBut one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.\nThey saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,\nAnd they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.\n\nThe sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;\nHe pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.\nAnd now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,\nAnd now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.\n\nOh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,\nThe band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,\nAnd somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;\nBut there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out.
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I can help, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_R._Drew#Death  click on this link, and it'll take you to his obituary.
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Arlo Guthrie. He also wrote it.
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Yes, I read it many years ago. It was written by Bel Kaufman.
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I wrote that poem back in 1964 when I was 12 years old. Wish I had put my name to it.\nI still have it. But the way I originally wrote it was, \n\nOoey Gooey was a worm,\nA little old worm was he;\nHe crawed upon a railroad track,\nAnd along came the 5:03\nTOOT TOOT - Ooey Gooey.\n\nOh yea, here is another one I wrote\n\nA peanut sat on a railroad track,\nHis heart was all a flutter;\nAlong came the 5:03.\nUh Oh - Peanut Butter.
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Muze Annotations\nThe beloved author of such classic children's books as "Henry Huggins" and "Dear Mr. Henshaw" tells of her early life in Oregon, first on the family farm in Yamhill, and later in Portland during the Depression. Readers will learn about the childhood of the creator of Ramona, and find parts of her life that made their way into her books.\n\n\nPublisher's Notes\nGenerations of children have grown up with Henry Huggins, Ramona Quimby, and all of their friends, families, and assorted pets. For everyone who has enjoyed the pranks and schemes, embarrassing moments, and all of the other poignant and colorful images of childhood brought to life in Beverly Cleary books, here is the fascinating true story of the remarkable woman who created them.\n\n\nSynopses\nFollows the popular children's author from her childhood years in Oregon through high school and into young adulthood, highlighting her family life and her growing interest in writing.
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Calvin and Hobbs are one of my favorites!  Here it is...\n\nhttp://homepage.mac.com/tigershark/poems/poem4a.html
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Jim Calhoun. Broke it in 1999 on "lucky" #13, I think.
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Dr Findlay  Bill Simpson\nDr Cameron  Andrew Cruickshank\nJanet  Barbara Mullen\nDr Snoddy don't know\n\nTry reading Sunset Song by Lewis Grassic Gibbon
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"Follow Me" by Ira Stanphill.  It's one of my favorites.
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My favorite is, "It is well with my soul", considering it was written by a man who lost most of his family as they crossed the Atlantic by ship.\n\nTo quote one website...\n\nThis hymn was writ­ten af­ter two ma­jor trau­mas in Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the great Chi­ca­go Fire of Oc­to­ber 1871, which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). Short­ly af­ter, while cross­ing the At­lan­tic, all four of Spaf­ford’s daugh­ters died in a col­li­sion with an­o­ther ship. Spaf­ford’s wife Anna sur­vived and sent him the now fa­mous tel­e­gram, “Saved alone.” Sev­er­al weeks lat­er, as Spaf­ford’s own ship passed near the spot where his daugh­ters died, the Ho­ly Spir­it in­spired these words. They speak to the eter­nal hope that all be­liev­ers have, no mat­ter what pain and grief be­fall them on earth.\n\nWhen peace, like a river, attendeth my way,\nWhen sorrows like sea billows roll;\nWhatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,\nIt is well, it is well, with my soul.\n\nRefrain\n\nIt is well, with my soul,\nIt is well, with my soul,\nIt is well, it is well, with my soul.\n\nThough Satan should buffet, though trials should come,\nLet this blest assurance control,\nThat Christ has regarded my helpless estate,\nAnd hath shed His own blood for my soul.\n\nRefrain\n\nMy sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!\nMy sin, not in part but the whole,\nIs nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,\nPraise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!\n\nRefrain\n\nFor me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:\nIf Jordan above me shall roll,\nNo pang shall be mine, for in death as in life\nThou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.\n\nRefrain\n\nBut, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,\nThe sky, not the grave, is our goal;\nOh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!\nBlessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!\n\nRefrain\n\nAnd Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,\nThe clouds be rolled back as a scroll;\nThe trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,\nEven so, it is well with my soul.\n\nRefrain
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Old Sparky is the nickname of Florida's electric chair. It was the sole means of execution in Florida from 1924 until 2000, when the Florida legislature under pressure from the U.S. Supreme Court replaced it with lethal injection
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I like it. who wrote it?
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Howard Morris.  Loved his work!
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Yes I had a cat named after him. He was created By Gilbert Shelton not R. Crumb as I had previously thought. \nI found Robert Crumb's book with all his characters was published. I saw it on a bargain table at Borders. I was short money and when I went back someone else got it.\n I just found it on line. Great stuff. Who could forget characters like Micky Rat,Fritz the Cat,Zippy the pinhead.The fabulous Freak Brothers who had Fat Freddie and his Cat.Binky Brown meets the Holy Virgin Mary.( You had to be a victim of Catholic school to appreciate that one.).Man that was some amazingly funny stuff. All came out in the late 60's and early 70's.