When winter’s cold tempests and snows are no more,
Green meadows and brown-furrowed fields reappearing,
The fishermen hauling their shad to the shore,
And cloud-cleaving geese to the Lakes are a-steering;
When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing;...
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The man in righteousness arrayed,
A pure and blameless liver,
Needs not the keen Toledo blade,
Nor venom-freighted quiver.
What though he wind his toilsome way
O’er regions wild and weary—
Through Zara’s burning desert stray,
Or...
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One day between the Lip and the Heart
A wordless strife arose,
Which was expertest in the art
His purpose to disclose.
The Lip called forth the vassal Tongue,
And made him vouch—a lie!
The slave his servile anthem sung,
And braved...
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Hail, columbia! happy land!
Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band!
Who fought and bled in Freedom’s cause,
Who fought and bled in Freedom’s cause,
And when the storm of war was gone,
Enjoyed the peace your valor won.
Let independence be our boast...
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Who has robbed the ocean cave,
To tinge thy lips with coral hue?
Who from India’s distant wave
For thee those pearly treasures drew?
Who, from yonder orient sky,
Stole the morning of thine eye?
Thousand charms, thy form to deck,...
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When calm is the night, and the stars shine bright,
The sleigh glides smooth and cheerily;
And mirth and jest abound,
While all is still around,
Save the horses’ trampling sound,
And the horse-bells tinkling merrily.
But when the...
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’t was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,...
Poet: |
O say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming—
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the clouds of the fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming!
And the rocket’s red...
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Drink! drink! to whom shall we drink?
To a friend or a mistress? Come, let me think!
To those who are absent, or those who are here?
To the dead that we loved, or the living still dear?
Alas! when I look, I find none of the last!
The present is barren,—let...
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all hail! thou noble land,
Our Fathers’ native soil!
Oh, stretch thy mighty hand,
Gigantic grown by toil,
O’er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore!
For thou with magic might
Canst reach to where the light
Of...
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