That sovereign thought obscured? That vision clear Dimmed in the shadow of the sable wing, And fainter grown the fine interpreting Which as an oracle was ours to hear! Nay, but the Gods reclaim not from the seer Their gift,—although he ceases here to sing, And, like the antique sage, a covering Draws round his head, knowing what change is near.
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World’s Fair, St. Louis O THOU, 1 whose glorious orbs on high Engird the earth with splendor round, From out Thy secret place draw nigh The courts and temples of this ground; Eternal Light, Fill with Thy might These domes that in Thy purpose grew, And lift a nation’s... |
SO 1 that soldierly legend is still on its journey,— That story of Kearny who knew not to yield! ’T was the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry, and Birney, Against twenty thousand he rallied the field. Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose highest, Where the dead lay in... |
From “Alice of Monmouth” OUR good steeds snuff the evening air, Our pulses with their purpose tingle; The foeman’s fires are twinkling there; He leaps to hear our sabres jingle! HALT! Each carbine send its whizzing ball: Now, cling! clang! forward all, Into the fight! Dash on... |
Here where the curfew Still, they say, rings, Time rested long ago, Folding his wings; Here, on old Norwich’s Out-along road, Cousin Lucretia Had her abode. Norridge, not Nor-wich (See Mother Goose), Good enough English For a song’s use. Side and roof shingled, All of... |
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HARP of New England Song, That even in slumber trembled with the touch Of poets who like the four winds from thee waken All harmonies that to thy strings belong,— Say, wilt thou blame the younger hands too much Which from thy laurelled resting place have taken Thee crowned... |
