Charles Lotin Hildreth

  • At the Mermaid Inn

    At table yonder sits the man we seek,
      Beside the ingle, where the crimson flare
    Reveals him through the eddying tavern reek,
      Reclining easeful in his leathern chair;
    In russet doublet, bearded and benign,
    He looks a worthy burgher at his wine.

    ...

  • Implora Pace

    I stood within the cypress gloom
      Where old Ferrara’s dead are laid,
    And mused on many a sculptured tomb,
      Moss-grown and mouldering in the shade.

    And there was one the eye might pass,
      And careless foot might tread upon
    A crumbling tablet in...

  • To an Obscure Poet Who Lives on My Hearth

    Why shouldst thou cease thy plaintive song
        When I draw near?
    Has mankind done thee any wrong,
        That thou shouldst fear?

    To see thee scampering to thy den,
        So wild and shy,
    ’T would seem thou know’st the ways of men
        As well...