A Bard's Epitaph
1786
Is there a whim-inspired fool,
Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near;
And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.
Is there a bard of rustic song,
Who...
'Twas in James River, not long ago,
When the tide was falling, sluggish and slow,
That from Newport News and Fortress Monroe
A Nondescript vessel was seen:
A thing like a house-roof, iron clad,
That, saucily waving over it, had
The flag of the country gone to the bad…
The...
When the goodman's shuttle merrily
Goes flashing through the loom,
And the good wife reads her Plato
In her own sequestered room;
With weeping and with laughter
Still shall the tale be told,
How pretty Pollia won the Bridge
In the brave days of old.
Arouse, ye men of brain and brawn,
Unnumbered hosts that toil;
Assert your manhood, break your chains:
Reclaim your own fair soil!
Too long beneath oppression's lash
Ye've slaved for robber knaves;
And gave your all to Church and State,
Contented to be slaves.
The...
Be kind when you can, though the kindness be little,
'Tis small letters make up philosophers' scrolls;
The crystal of Happiness, vivid and brittle,
Can seldom be cut into very large bowls.
'Tis atoms that dwell in the measureless mountain,
'Tis moments that sum up the century's flight;
'Tis but...
Be Mine the Doom —
Sufficient Fame —
To perish in Her Hand!
They killed a Child to please the Gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.
I bear the sins of sinful men
That have no sin of my own,
They drive me forth to Heaven's wrath
Unpastured and alone.
I am the meat of...
How was I worthy so divine a loss,
Deepening my midnights, kindling all my morns?
Why waste such precious wood to make my cross,
Such far-sought roses for my crown of thorns?
And when she came, how earned I such a gift?
Why spend on me, a poor earth...
They drift down the hall together;
He smiles in her lifted eyes;
Like waves of that mighty river,
The strains of the "Danube" rise.
They float on its rhythmic measure
Like leaves on a summer-stream;
And here, in this scene of pleasure,
I bury my sweet, dead...
Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,
Your head like the golden-rod,
And we will go sailing away from here
To the beautiful Land of Nod.
Away from life's hurry and flurry and worry,
Away from earth's shadows and gloom,
To a world of fair weather we'll float off together,
Where roses...