Yes, 'twas a cause, as noble and as great As ever hero died to vindicate-- A Nation's right to speak a Nation's voice, And own no power but of the Nation's choice!...
Who d' ye think we've got here?--quite reformed from the giddy. Fantastic young thing that once made such a noise-- Why, the famous Miss Fudge--that delectable Biddy, Whom you and I saw once at Paris, when boys,...
Bring me the slumbering souls of flowers, While yet, beneath some northern sky, Ungilt by beams, ungemmed by showers, They wait the breath of summer hours,...
I walked out in my Coat of Pride, I looked about on every side, And said the mountains should not be Just where they were, and that the sea Was badly placed, and that the beech...
Hear what God the Lord hath spoken, 'O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken, Fair abodes I build for you; Thorns of heart-felt tribulation Shall no more perplex your ways:...
Sea, and bright wind, and heaven of ardent air, More dear than all things earth-born; O to me Mother more dear than love's own longing, sea, More than love's eyes are, fair,...
From the hills of home forth looking, far beneath the tent-like span Of the sky, I see the white gleam of the headland of Cape Ann. Well I know its coves and beaches to the ebb-tide glimmering down,...
It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub, That they formed an institution called the Geebung Polo Club. There were long and wiry natives from the rugged mountain side,...
The Geese joined the Cranes in some wheat; All was well, till, disturbed at their treat, Light-winged, the Cranes fled, But the slow Geese, well fed, Couldn't rise, and were caught in retreat. ...
I will not heed the message which you bring: That lovely lady gave her cloak to us, And who'd believe she'd give away a thing And ask it back again?, 'tis fabulous! ...
O what has made that sudden noise? What on the threshold stands? It never crossed the sea because John Bull and the sea are friends; But this is not the old sea Nor this the old seashore....
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp, My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp, Where the real effigy of midnight hags, With tawny smoked flesh and tattered rags,...
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp, My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp, Where the real effigy of midnight hags, With tawny smoked flesh and tatter'd rags,...
The big bright Moon hung high and round, In a densely darkened sky; The tall pines swayed, and mocked, and groaned; The mountains grew so high That the Man-in-the-Moon came out and said,...
Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to rhyme, The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoops A little higher every time....
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, I Make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,...
Double flutes and horns resound As they dance the idol round; Jacob's daughters, madly reeling, Whirl about the golden calf. Hear them laugh! Kettledrums and laughter pealing. ...