Those were good times, in olden days, Of which the poet has his dreams, When gods beset the woodland ways, And lay in wait by all the streams. One could be sure of something then Severely simple, simply grand, Or keenly, subtly sweet, as when Venus and Love went hand in hand. Now I would give (such is my need) All the world’s store of rhythm and rhyme To see Pan fluting on a reed And with his goat-hoof keeping time!
Those were good times, in olden days, Of which the poet has his dreams, When gods beset the woodland ways, And lay in wait by all the streams. One could be sure of something then Severely simple, simply grand, Or keenly, subtly sweet, as when Venus and Love went hand in hand. Now I would...
Where hints of racy sap and gum Out of the old dark forest come; Where birds their beaks like hammers wield, And pith is pierced, and bark is peeled; Where the green walnut’s outer rind Gives precious bitterness to the wind;— There lurks the sweet creative power, As lurks the honey in the flower...
Old soldiers true, ah, them all men can trust, Who fought, with conscience clear, on either side; Who bearded Death and thought their cause was just; Their stainless honor cannot be denied; All patriots they beyond the farthest doubt; Ring it and sing it up and down the land, And let no voice...
What bird is that, with voice so sweet, Sings to the sun from yonder tree? What girl is that so slim and fleet, Comes through the cane her love to meet? Foli zo-zo, sing merrily. The pretty girl she comes to me! What wind is that upon the cane? What perfume from a far-off rose Fills me...
We were twin brothers, tall and hale, Glad wanderers over hill and dale. We stood within the twilight shade Of pines that rimmed a Southern glade. He said: “Let ’s settle, if we can, Which of us is the stronger man. “We ’ll try a flight shot, high and good, Across the green glade toward the wood...
