Among the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, Where, thro' a shapeless breach, his stream resounds,...
Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen Buildings, albeit rude, that have maintained Proportions more harmonious, and approached To closer fellowship with ideal grace....
Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs On this commodious Seat! for much remains Of hard ascent before thou reach the top Of this huge Eminence, from blackness named,...
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth (Since which I number threescore winters past), A shatter'd veteran, hollow-trunk'd perhaps,...
Year of meteors! brooding year! I would bind in words retrospective, some of your deeds and signs; I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad;...
Years of the modern! years of the unperform'd! Your horizon rises, I see it parting away for more august dramas; I see not America only, I see not only Liberty's nation, but other nations preparing;...
Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze, Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe!...
When the chilling winds of Winter come a-knocking at the door, And the fleecy flakes are flying and the earth is covered o'er, And you've supped on sweet potatoes and a 'possum frosted ripe,...
1. Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket fall of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie; When the pie was open the birds began to sing, Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?
"You are old, father William," the young man said, "And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head, Do you think, at your age, it is right? ...
You felons on trial in courts; You convicts in prison-cells, you sentenced assassins, chain'd and hand-cuff'd with iron; Who am I, too, that I am not on trial, or in prison?...
When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green; And every goose a swan, lad, And every lass a queen; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away;...
Young England, what is then become of Old Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead, Dead to the very name? Presumption fed On empty air! That name will keep its hold In the true filial bosom's inmost fold...
The Young King fights in the trenches and the Old King fights in the rear, Because he is old and feeble, and not for a thought of fear. The Young King fights for the Future, and the Old King fights for the Past,...
But, Song, arise thee on a greater wing, Nor twitter robin-like of love, nor sing A pretty dalliance with grief - but try Some metre like a sky, Wherein to set Stars that may linger yet...
I make this rhyme of my lady and me To give me ease of my misery, Of my lady and me I make this rhyme For lovers in the after-time. And I weave its warp from day to day In a golden loom deep hid away...