Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro, And what should they know of England who only England know?, The poor little street-bred people that vapour and fume and brag,...
Sound reason and a tender heart With thee are friends that never part. A hundred traits might swell the roll; - Suffice to name thy nobleness of soul;...
Were I that wandering citizen whose city is the world, I would not weep for all that fell before the flags were furled; I would not let one murmur mar the trumpets volleying forth...
Born in the flesh, and bred in the bone, Some of us harbour still A New World pride: and we flaunt or hide The Spirit of Bunker Hill. We claim our place, as a separate race, Or a self-created clan;...
He is an Englishman! For he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is an Englishman! For he might have been a Roosian, A French, or Turk, or Proosian, Or perhaps Itali-an!...
Fort', Fort', my beloved one, Sit here by my side, On my knees put up both little feet! I was sure, if I tried, I could make you laugh spite of Scirocco:...
Miss Danae, when Fair and Young (As Horace has divinely sung) Could not be kept from Jove's Embrace By Doors of Steel, and Walls of Brass. The Reason of the Thing is clear;...
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between...
Welcome! but yet no entrance, till we bless First you, then you, and both for white success. Profane no porch, young man and maid, for fear Ye wrong the Threshold-god that keeps peace here:...
IF there's a tale more common than the rest, The one I mean to give is such confessed. Why choose it then? you ask; at whose desire? Hast not enough already tuned thy lyre?...
At Francis Allen's on the Christmas-eve,' The game of forfeits done'the girls all kiss'd Beneath the sacred bush and past away' The parson Holmes, the poet Everard Hall,...
Your love taught me to grieve and I have been in need, for centuries a woman to make me grieve for a woman, to cry upon her arms like a sparrow for a woman to gather my pieces...