I would to God that mine old age might have Before my last, but here a living grave, Some one poor almshouse; there to lie, or stir Ghostlike, as in my meaner sepulchre; A little piggin and a pipkin by,...
When I see his wonderful choo-choo trains, Which he daily builds with infinite pains, Whose cars are a crazy and curious lot - A doll, a picture, a pepper pot, A hat, a pillow, a horse, a book,...
When Thou wast taken, Lord, I oft have read, All Thy disciples Thee forsook and fled. Let their example not a pattern be For me to fly, but now to follow Thee.
"Dying? I am not dying? Are you mad? You think I need to ask for heavenly grace? I think you are a fiend, who would be glad To see me struggle in death's cold embrace. ...
Hither, hither, from thy home, Airy sprite, I bid thee come! Born of roses, fed on dew, Charms and potions canst thou brew? Bring me here, with elfin speed, The fragrant philter which I need....
Titanic craft of many thousand tons, A smaller Britain free to come and go, Relying on thy ten terrific guns To daunt afar the most presumptuous foe; Thick-panoplied with plates of hardened steel,...
The frail eidolons of all blossoms Spring, Year after year, about the forest tossed, The magic touch of the enchanter, Frost, Back from the Heaven of the Flow'rs doth bring;...
He plays with other boys when work is done, But feels too clumsy and too stiff to run, Yet where there's mischief he can find a way The first to join and last [to run] away....
Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the Indians, and who Afterwards took the Bankrupt Law And emerged from it richer than ever...
Of mortal parents is the Hero born By whom the undaunted Tyrolese are led? Or is it Tell's great Spirit, from the dead Returned to animate an age forlorn? He comes like Phoebus through the gates of morn...
O, it's fine when the New and the Auld Year meet, An' the lads gang roarin' i' the lichtit street, An' there's me and there's Alick an' the miller's loon,...
On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight When the drum beat at dead of night,...
Hold up yer heeads, tho' at poor workin men Simple rich ens may laff an may scorn; Maybe they ne'er haddled ther riches thersen, Somdy else lived befooar they wor born. As noble a heart may be fun in a man,...
Spring's herald, hail! You've rent the forest's quiet? Your hair is wet, and you are leaf-strewn, dusty ... With your powers lusty Have you raised a riot?...
Of all the sweet visions that come unto me Of happy refreshment by land or by sea, Like oases where in life's desert I roam, Is nothing so pleasant as Holiday Home. ...