I saw the constellated matin choir
Then when they sang together in the dawn,—
The morning stars of this first rounded day
Hesperian, hundred-houred, that ending leaves
Youth’s fillet still upon the New World’s brow;
Then when they sang together,—sang for joy
Of mount and wood and cataract, and stretch
Of keen-aired vasty reaches happy-...
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Thou art mine, thou hast given thy word;
Close, close in my arms thou art clinging;
Alone for my ear thou art singing
A song which no stranger hath heard:
But afar from me yet, like a bird,
Thy soul, in some region unstirred,
On its mystical circuit is winging.Thou art mine, I have made thee mine own;
Henceforth we are... -
i have a little kinsman
Whose earthly summers are but three,
And yet a voyager is he
Greater than Drake or Frobisher,
Than all their peers together!
He is a brave discoverer,
And, far beyond the tether
Of them who seek the frozen Pole,
Has sailed where the noiseless surges roll.
Ay, he has... -
Just where the Treasury’s marble front
Looks over Wall Street’s mingled nations;
Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont
To throng for trade and last quotations;
Where, hour by hour, the rates of gold
Outrival, in the ears of people,
The quarter-chimes, serenely tolled
From Trinity’s undaunted steeple,—Even there I heard...
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So that soldierly legend is still on its journey,—
That story of Kearny who knew not to yield!
’T was the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry, and Birney,
Against twenty thousand he rallied the field.
Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose highest,
Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf oak and pine,
Where the aim from... -
Look on this cast, and know the hand
That bore a nation in its hold:
From this mute witness understand
What Lincoln was,—how large of mouldThe man who sped the woodman’s team,
And deepest sunk the ploughman’s share,
And pushed the laden raft astream,
Of fate before him unaware.This was the hand that knew to swing...
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Soe, mistress Anne, faire neighbour myne,
How rides a witche when nighte-winds blowe?
Folk saye that you are none too goode
To joyne the crewe in Salem woode,
When one you wot in gives the signe:
Righte well, methinks, the pathe you knowe.In Meetinge-time I watched you well,
While godly Master Parris prayed:
Your folded... -
Where ’s he that died o’ Wednesday?
What place on earth hath he?
A tailor’s yard beneath, I wot,
Where worms approaching be;
For the wight that died o’ Wednesday,
Just laid the light below,
Is dead as the varlet turned to clay
A score of years ago.Where ’s he that died o’ Sabba’ day?
Good Lord, I ’d not be he... -
That year? Yes, doubtless I remember still,—
Though why take count of every wind that blows!
’T was plain, men said, that Fortune used me ill
That year,—the self-same year I met with Rose.Crops failed; wealth took a flight; house, treasure, land,
Slipped from my hold—thus plenty comes and goes.
One friend I had, but he too loosed his... -
mute, sightless visitant,
From what uncharted world
Hast voyaged into Life’s rude sea,
With guidance scant;
As if some bark mysteriously
Should hither glide, with spars aslant
And sails all furled!In what perpetual dawn,
Child of the spotless brow,
Hast kept thy spirit far withdrawn—...