Home of the Percys’ high-born race,
Home of their beautiful and brave,
Alike their birth and burial place,
Their cradle and their grave!
Still sternly o’er the castle gate
Their house’s Lion stands in state,
As in his proud departed hours;...
Fitz-Greene Halleck
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[At Laspi—Ancient Platæa—August 20, 1823]
AT midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power.
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a... -
From “Fanny”
WEEHAWKEN! In thy mountain scenery yet,
All we adore of Nature in her wild
And frolic hour of infancy is met;
And never has a summer’s morning smiled
Upon a lovelier scene than the full eye
Of the enthusiast revels on,—when high... -
Died in New York, September, 1820
GREEN be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.Tears fell, when thou wert dying,
From eyes unused to weep,
And long, where... -
From “Fanny”
BUT Fortune, like some others of her sex,
Delights in tantalizing and tormenting.
One day we feed upon their smiles,—the next
Is spent in swearing, sorrowing, and repenting.* * * * *
Eve never walked in Paradise... -
Cooper, whose name is with his country’s woven,
First in her files, her PIONEER of mind—
A wanderer now in other climes, has proven
His love for the young land he left behind;And throned her in the senate-hall of nations,
Robed like the deluge... -
Wild rose of Alloway! my thanks;
Thou ’mindst me of that autumn noon
When first we met upon “the banks
And braes of bonny Doon.”Like thine, beneath the thorn-tree’s bough,
My sunny hour was glad and brief;
We ’ve crossed the winter sea,... -
Home of the Percys’ high-born race,
Home of their beautiful and brave,
Alike their birth and burial-place,
Their cradle and their grave!
Still sternly o’er the castle gate
Their house’s Lion stands in state,
As in his proud departed hours;... -
Green be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.Tears fell when thou wert dying,
From eyes unused to weep,
And long, where thou art lying,
Will tears the cold... -
At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power:
In dreams, through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;
In dreams his song of triumph...