• Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
        Long has it waved on high,
    And many an eye has danced to see
        That banner in the sky;
    Beneath it rung the battle shout,
        And burst the cannon’s roar;—
    The meteor of the ocean air
        Shall sweep the clouds no more.

    Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood,
        Where knelt the...

  • I saw him once before,
    As he passed by the door,
        And again
    The pavement stones resound,
    As he totters o’er the ground
        With his cane.

    They say that in his prime,
    Ere the pruning-knife of Time
        Cut him down,
    Not a better man was found
    By the Crier on his round
        Through the town.

    But...

  • I wrote some lines once on a time
        In wondrous merry mood,
    And thought, as usual, men would say
        They were exceeding good.

    They were so queer, so very queer,
        I laughed as I would die;
    Albeit, in the general way,
        A sober man am I.

    I called my servant, and he came;
        How kind it was of him
    To mind...

  • Ah, clemence! when I saw thee last
      Trip down the Rue de Seine,
    And turning, when thy form had past,
      I said, “We meet again,”—
    I dreamed not in that idle glance
      Thy latest image came,
    And only left to memory’s trance
      A shadow and a name.

    The few strange words my lips had taught
      Thy timid voice to speak,
    ...

  • This ancient silver bowl of mine, it tells of good old times,
    Of joyous days and jolly nights, and merry Christmas chimes;
    They were a free and jovial race, but honest, brave, and true,
    Who dipped their ladle in the punch when this old bowl was new.

    A Spanish galleon brought the bar,—so runs the ancient tale;
    ’T was hammered by an Antwerp smith, whose...

  • The wreath that star-crowned Shelley gave
    Is lying on thy Roman grave,
    Yet on its turf young April sets
    Her store of slender violets;
    Though all the Gods their garlands shower,
    I too may bring one purple flower.
    Alas! what blossom shall I bring,
    That opens in my Northern spring?
    The garden beds have all run wild,
    So trim...

  • We count the broken lyres that rest
      Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,
    But o’er their silent sister’s breast
      The wild-flowers who will stoop to number?
    A few can touch the magic string,
      And noisy Fame is proud to win them:—
    Alas for those that never sing,
      But die with all their music in them!

    Nay, grieve not for...

  • Not in the world of light alone,
    Where God has built his blazing throne,
    Nor yet alone in earth below,
    With belted seas that come and go,
    And endless isles of sunlit green,
    Is all thy Maker’s glory seen:
    Look in upon thy wondrous frame,—
    Eternal wisdom still the same!

    The smooth, soft air with pulse-like waves
    Flows...

  • This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
        Sails the unshadowed main,—
        The venturous bark that flings
    On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
    In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
        And coral reefs lie bare,
    Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

    Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;...

  • Come, dear old comrade, you and I
    Will steal an hour from days gone by,
    The shining days when life was new,
    And all was bright with morning dew,
    The lusty days of long ago,
    When you were Bill and I was Joe.

    Your name may flaunt a titled trail
    Proud as a cockerel’s rainbow tail,
    And mine as brief appendix wear
    As Tam O’...