Tom - garlanded with squat and surly steel Tom; then Tom's fallowbootfellow piles pick By him and rips out rockfire homeforth - sturdy Dick; Tom Heart-at-ease, Tom Navvy: he is all for his meal...
On pay-day nights, neck-full with beer, Old soldiers stumbling homeward here, Homeward (still dazzled by the spark Love kindled in some alley dark) Young soldiers mooning in slow thought,...
Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears With thine enchantment, melt me into tears. Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre, And make my spirits frantic with the fire;...
Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, That strik'st a stillness into hell; Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, With thy soul-melting lullabies;...
Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, On this sick youth work your enchantments here! Bind up his senses with your numbers, so As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe....
Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish'd, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou Power that canst sever...
Tom Van Arden, my old friend, Our warm fellowship is one Far too old to comprehend Where its bond was first begun: Mirage-like before my gaze Gleams a land of other days,...
Tom was goin' for a poet, an' said he'd a poet be; One of these long-haired fellers a feller hates to see; One of these chaps forever fixin' things cute and clever;...
Georgie, come home!--Life's tendrils cling about thee, Where'er thou art, by wayward fancy led. We miss thee, love!--Home is not home without thee-- The light and glory of the house have fled:...
It will be looked for, book, when some but see Thy title, Epigrams, and named of me, Thou should'st be bold, licentious, full of gall, Wormwood and sulphur, sharp and toothed withal,...
Oh! little maid! (I do not know your name Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution I'll add) Oh, buxom widow! married dame! (As one of these must be your present portion)...
To-night the sea sends up a gulf-like sound, And ancient rhymes are ringing in my head, The many lilts of song we sang and said, My friend and brother, when we journeyed round...
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale With passions of perfume, - if violets blue That hint of heaven with odor more than hue, - If perfect roses, each a holy Grail...
Thou lowly cot, where first my breath I drew, Past joys endear thee, childhood's past delight; Where each young summer's pictur'd on my view; And, dearer still, the happy winter-night,...