Ay, man is manly. Here you see The warrior-carriage of the head, And brave dilation of the frame; And lighting all, the soul that led In Spottsylvania's charge to victory, Which justifies his fame....
Such wast thou: now in earth below, Dust and a skeleton thou art. Above thy bones and clay, Here vainly placed by loving hands, Sole guardian of memory and woe, The image of departed beauty stands....
O that those lips had language! Life has pass'd With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine'thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me;...
When Faith and Love, which parted from thee never, Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load Of death, called life, which us from life doth sever....
Oh! gather whencesoe'er ye safely may The help which slackening Pity requires; Nor deem that he perforce must go astray Who treads upon the footmarks of his sires.
I'm not the grandson of that ass Quin;[1] Nor can you prove it, Mr. Pasquin. My grandame had gallants by twenties, And bore my mother by a 'prentice. This when my grandsire knew, they tell us he...
Happy are they and charmed in life Who through long wars arrive unscarred At peace. To such the wreath be given, If they unfalteringly have striven-- In honor, as in limb, unmarred....
Youth is the time when hearts are large, And stirring wars Appeal to the spirit which appeals in turn To the blade it draws. If woman incite, and duty show (Though made the mask of Cain),...
Hills and valleys where April rallies his radiant squadron of flowers and birds, Steep strange beaches and lustrous reaches of fluctuant sea that the land engirds,...
On the summit of Mount Clarence rotting slowly in the air Stands a tall and naked flagstaff, relic of the Russian scare, Russian scare that scares no longer, for the cry is 'All is well',...
Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt, And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown....
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore-- Faction and feud are passing away. 'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar, "Orange and Green will carry the day."...
[Published by Shelley, 1810. A Reprint, edited by Richard Garnett, C.B., LL.D., was issued by John Lane, in 1898. The punctuation of the original edition is here retained.] ...
O silly love! O cunning love! An old maid to trepan: I cannot go about my work For loving of a man. I cannot bake, I cannot brew, And, do the best I can, I burn the bread and chill the mash,...