We set no right above hers, No earthly light nor star, She hath had many lovers, But not as lovers are: They all were gallant fellows And died all deaths for her, And never one was jealous...
To my Muse give attention, and deem it not a mystery If I jumble up together music, poetry, and history, To sing of the vices of wicked Queen Bess, sir, Whose memory posterity with blushes shall confess, sir,...
Above his misered embers, gnarled and gray, With toil-twitched limbs he bends; around his hut, Want, like a hobbling hag, goes night and day, Scolding at windows and at doors tight-shut.
There was a time in Europe long ago When no man died for freedom anywhere, But England's lion leaping from its lair Laid hands on the oppressor! it was so While England could a great Republic show....
Even as one in city pent, Dazed with the stir and din of town, Drums on the pane in discontent, And sees the dreary rain come down, Yet, through the dimmed and dripping glass,...
As the music plays a soft air, the curtain rises slowly and discovers an Indian boy and girl sleeping under two plantain-trees; and, when the curtain is almost up, the music turns into a tune expressing an alarm, at which the b...
Since faction ebbs, and rogues grow out of fashion, Their penny scribes take care to inform the nation, How well men thrive in this or that plantation:...
Quaff the glass, the wine is red, And the rose of youth is glowing, While the toils of life are fled And the snows of age are going; Quaff it with a hearty will, Quaff it deep and quaff forever;...
Never have I been glad or sad That there was such a thing as bad. There had to be, I understood, For there to have been any good. It was by having been contrasted That good and bad so long had lasted....
Two years ago I was thinking On the changes that years bring forth; Now I stand where I then stood drinking The gust and the salt sea froth; And the shuddering wave strikes, linking...
Where had her sweetness gone? What fanatics invent In this blind bitter town, Fantasy or incident Not worth thinking of, put her in a rage. I had forgiven enough That had forgiven old age....
One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar, To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star; It lies with thee - the choice is thine, is thine, To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car. ...
Like black fangs in a cruel ogre's jaw The grim piles lift against the sunset sky; Down drops the night, and shuts the horrid maw-- I listen, breathless, but there comes no cry. ...
Of old, like Helen, guerdon of the strong, Like Helen fair, like Helen light of word, "The spoils unto the conquerors belong. Who winneth me must win me by the sword." ...