Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

One Country after all, One country, brethren! We must rise or fall With the Supreme Republic. We must be The makers of her immortality,— Her freedom, fame, Her glory or her shame: Liegemen to God and fathers of the free! After all—... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	A Plantation Ditty De gray owl sing fum de chimbly top: “Who—who—is—you-oo?” En I say: “Good Lawd, hit’s des po ’me, En I ain’t quite ready fer de Jasper Sea; I ’m po’ en sinful, en you ’lowed I ’d be; Oh, wait, good Lawd, ’twell ter-morror!” De gray owl sing... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	The Graveyard Rabbit In the white moonlight, where the willow waves, He halfway gallops among the graves— A tiny ghost in the gloom and gleam, Content to dwell where the dead men dream, But wary still! For they plot him ill; For the graveyard rabbit hath a charm... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	The Mocking-Bird He did n’t know much music When first he come along; An’ all the birds went wonderin’ Why he did n’t sing a song. They primped their feathers in the sun, An’ sung their sweetest notes; An’ music jest come on the run From all their... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton
A Little Way A little way to walk with you, my own— Only a little way, Then one of us must weep and walk alone Until God’s day. A little way! It is so sweet to live Together, that I know Life would not have one withered rose to give If... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	The Mocking-Bird He did n’t know much music When first he come along; An’ all the birds went wonderin’ Why he did n’t sing a song. They primped their feathers in the sun, An’ sung their sweetest notes; An’ music jest come on the run From all their... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	An Old Battle-Field The Softest whisperings of the scented South, And rust and roses in the cannon’s mouth; And, where the thunders of the fight were born, The wind’s sweet tenor in the standing corn; With song of larks, low-lingering in the loam, And blue skies bending... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton	A Plantation Ditty De gray owl sing fum de chimbly top: “Who—who—is—you-oo?” En I say: “Good Lawd, hit ’s des po’ me, En I ain’t quite ready fer de Jasper Sea; I ’m po’ en sinful, en you ’lowed I ’d be; Oh, wait, good Lawd, ’twell ter-morror!” De gray owl sing... Poet: Frank Lebby Stanton