While haughty Gallia's dames, that pread O'er their pale cheeks, an artful red, Beheld this beauteous stranger there In native charms, divinely fair; Confusion in their looks they show'd;...
So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight Labour's banners float and flow; They are marching with the sun, But I look in vain for one...
WE are out on the open road. Through the low west window a cold light flows On the floor where never my numb feet trode Before; onward the strange road goes.
Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre? And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones?...
1. It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, Upon the cloudy mountain-peak supine; Below, far lands are seen tremblingly; Its horror and its beauty are divine. Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie...
Afar they fell. It was the zone Of fig and orange, cane and lime (A land how all unlike their own, With the cold pine-grove overgrown), But still their Country's clime....
Below this marble monument is laid All that heaven wants of this celestial maid. Preserve, O sacred tomb! thy trust consign'd; The mould was made on purpose for the mind:...
He who in impious times undaunted stood, And 'midst rebellion durst be just and good; Whose arms asserted, and whose sufferings more Confirm'd the cause for which he sought before,...
I with borrow'd silver shine What you see is none of mine. First I show you but a quarter, Like the bow that guards the Tartar: Then the half, and then the whole, Ever dancing round the pole. ...
One says he is immoral, and points out Warm sin in ruddy specks upon his soul: Bigot, one folly of the man you flout Is more to God than thy lean life is whole.
This is the Month, and this the happy morn Wherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King, Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring;...
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....
Beautiful Boy--thy heavenward thoughts Are pictured in thine eyes, Thou hast no taint of mortal birth, Thy communing is not of earth, Thy holy musings rise: Like incense kindled from on high,...
The grass of fifty Aprils hath waved green Above the spent heart, the Olympian head, The hands crost idly, the shut eyes unseen, Unseeing, the locked lips whose song hath fled;...
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....
While faster than his costive brain indites Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes; His case appears to me like honest Teague's, When he was run away with by his legs....