Samuel Minturn Peck

  • Fringing cypress forests dim
      Where the owl makes weird abode,
    Bending down with spicy limb
      O’er the old plantation road
    Through the swamp and up the hill,
      Where the dappled byways run,
    Round the gin-house, by the mill,
      Floats its...

  • She sports a witching gown,
    With a ruffle up and down
              On the skirt;
    She is gentle, she is shy,
    But there ’s mischief in her eye,—
              She ’s a flirt!

    She displays a tiny glove,
    And a dainty little love
              Of...

  • For the Boys of Yale
    SHE hath no gems of lustre bright
      To sparkle in her hair;
    No need hath she of borrowed light
      To make her beauty fair.
    Upon her shining locks afloat
      Are daisies wet with dew,
    And peeping from her lissome throat...

  • My little girl is nested
      Within her tiny bed,
    With amber ringlets crested
      Around her dainty head;
    She lies so calm and stilly,
      She breathes so soft and low,
    She calls to mind a lily
      Half-hidden in the snow.

    A weary little...

  • My little girl is nested
      Within her tiny bed,
    With amber ringlets crested
      Around her dainty head;
    She lies so calm and stilly,
      She breathes so soft and low,
    She calls to mind a lily
      Half-hidden in the snow.

    A weary little...

  • The dew is on the heather,
      The moon is in the sky,
    And the captain’s waving feather
      Proclaims the hour is nigh
    When some upon their horses
      Shall through the battle ride,
    And some with bleeding corses
      Must on the heather bide.

    ...
  • Her dimpled cheeks are pale;
    She ’s a lily of the vale,
          Not a rose.
    In a muslin or a lawn
    She is fairer than the dawn
          To her beaux.

    Her boots are slim and neat,—
    She is vain about her feet,
          It is said.
    ...

  • Fringing cypress forests dim
      Where the owl makes weird abode,
    Bending down with spicy limb
      O’er the old plantation road,
    Through the swamp and up the hill,
      Where the dappled byways run,
    Round the gin-house, by the mill,
      Floats its...