Let nations encircle the brows of the brave With glory the greatest that glitters below, Who make in the blood of the battle a grave For all that are found in the ranks of the foe;...
'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined, The squeamish in taste, and the narrow of mind, And the small critic wielding his delicate pen, That I sing of old Adam, the pride of old men. ...
A sonnet has come to my hands, the production, - and nearly the first poetical Production, - of a very young Lady. I have not the Author's consent to publish it: and there is no time to ask it. But I cannot omit adding such a f...
"Dig deeply, my Sons! through this field! There's a Treasure"--he died: unrevealed The spot where 'twas laid, They dug as he bade; And the Treasure was found in the yield. ...
The wolf and fox are neighbours strange: I would not build within their range. The fox once eyed with strict regard From day to day, a poultry-yard; But though a most accomplish'd cheat,...
Yes, I love the homestead. There In the spring the lilacs blew Plenteous perfume everywhere; There in summer gladioles grew Parallels of scarlet glare.
If seasons all were summers, And leaves would never fall, And hopping casement-comers Were foodless not at all, And fragile folk might be here That white winds bid depart;...
Christopher Davis was up upon Mavis And Sammy MacGregor on Flo, Jo Chauncy rode Spider, the rankest outsider, But HE'D make a wooden horse go. There was Robin and Leah and Boadicea,...
The farthest thunder that I heard Was nearer than the sky, And rumbles still, though torrid noons Have lain their missiles by. The lightning that preceded it Struck no one but myself,...
The Fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood,...
On the snow-line of the summit stood the Spaniard's English slave; And the frighted condor westward flew afar, Where the torch of Cotopaxi2 lit the wide Pacific wave,...
I, Louis Marin, mariner, born on the Breton coast, Must pass from earth away, And, because wild remorse Pursues me--is my curse, My guilty hand this day...
Set your face toward the darkness tell of deserts weird and wide, Where unshaken woods are huddled, and low, languid waters glide; Turn and tell of deserts lonely, lying pathless, deep and vast,...
A flimflam flopped from a fillamaloo, Where the pollywog pinkled so pale, And the pipkin piped a petulant "pooh" To the garrulous gawp of the gale. "Oh, woe to the swap of the sweeping swipe...
There is a hall in every house, Behind whose wainscot gnaws the mouse; Along whose sides are empty rooms, Peopled with dreams and ancient dooms. When down this hall you take your light,...
The evening found us whom the day had fled, Once more in bitter anger, you and I, Over some small, some foolish, trivial thing Our anger would not decently let die....