Who of all statesmen is his country's pride, Her councils' prompter and her leaders' guide? He speaks; the nation holds its breath to hear; He nods, and shakes the sunset hemisphere....
See how yon flaming herald treads The ridged and rolling waves, As, crashing o'er their crested heads, She bows her surly slaves! With foam before and fire behind, She rends the clinging sea,...
There was a young man in Boston town, He bought him a stethoscope nice and new, All mounted and finished and polished down, With an ivory cap and a stopper too.
Yet in the darksome crypt I left so late, Whose only altar is its rusted grate, - Sepulchral, rayless, joyless as it seems, Shamed by the glare of May's refulgent beams, -...
There's a thing that grows by the fainting flower, And springs in the shade of the lady's bower; The lily shrinks, and the rose turns pale, When they feel its breath in the summer gale,...
The stars are rolling in the sky, The earth rolls on below, And we can feel the rattling wheel Revolving as we go. Then tread away, my gallant boys, And make the axle fly;...
We count the broken lyres that rest Where the sweet wailing singers slumber, But o'er their silent sister's breast The wild-flowers who will stoop to number? A few can touch the magic string,...
The two proud sisters of the sea, In glory and in doom! - Well may the eternal waters be Their broad, unsculptured tomb! The wind that rings along the wave, The clear, unshadowed sun,...
If every tongue that speaks her praise For whom I shape my tinkling phrase Were summoned to the table, The vocal chorus that would meet Of mingling accents harsh or sweet,...
In poisonous dens, where traitors hide Like bats that fear the day, While all the land our charters claim Is sweating blood and breathing flame, Dead to their country's woe and shame,...
Poor conquered monarch! though that haughty glance Still speaks thy courage unsubdued by time, And in the grandeur of thy sullen tread Lives the proud spirit of thy burning clime; -...
The seed that wasteful autumn cast To waver on its stormy blast, Long o'er the wintry desert tost, Its living germ has never lost. Dropped by the weary tempest's wing,...
I Love to hear thine earnest voice, Wherever thou art hid, Thou testy little dogmatist, Thou pretty Katydid Thou mindest me of gentlefolks, - Old gentlefolks are they, -...
Thou who hast taught the teachers of mankind How from the least of things the mightiest grow, What marvel jealous Nature made thee blind, Lest man should learn what angels long to know?...
Bankrupt! our pockets inside out! Empty of words to speak his praises! Worcester and Webster up the spout! Dead broke of laudatory phrases! Yet why with flowery speeches tease,...