When Freedom, from her mountain height,
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there!
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure, celestial...
Joseph Rodman Drake
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“My visual orbs are purged from film, and, lo!
Instead of Anster’s turnip-bearing vales,
I see old fairy land’s miraculous show!
Her trees of tinsel kissed by freakish gales,
Her ouphs that, cloaked in leaf-gold, skim the breeze,
And fairies,... -
The man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
Give us the lad whose happy life
Is one perpetual grin:
He, Midas-like, turns all to gold,—
He smiles when others sigh,
Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
And laughs... -
Awake, ye forms of verse divine!
Painting! descend on canvas wing,—
And hover o’er my head, Design!
Your son, your glorious son, I sing;
At Trumbull’s name I break my sloth,
To load him with poetic riches:
The Titian of a table-cloth!... -
When freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white... -
The fay’s SENTENCE
THE MONARCH sat on his judgment-seat
On his brow the crown imperial shone,
The prisoner Fay was at his feet,
And his peers were ranged around the throne.
He waved his sceptre in the air;
He looked around and calmly spoke;...