I loved thee long and dearly,
Florence Vane;
My life’s bright dream and early
Hath come again;
I renew in my fond vision
My heart’s dear pain,
My hope, and thy derision,
Florence Vane.
The ruin lone and hoary,
The ruin old,
Where thou didst mark my story,
At even told,—
...
Taddeo Gaddi built me. I am old,
Five centuries old. I plant my foot of stone
Upon the Arno, as Saint Michael’s own
Was planted on the dragon. Fold by fold
Beneath me as it struggles, I behold
Its glistening scales. Twice hath it overthrown
My kindred and companions. Me alone
It moveth not, but is by me controlled.
I can...
Sweet maiden of Passamaquoddy,
Shall we seek for communion of souls
Where the deep Mississippi meanders,
Or the distant Saskatchewan rolls?
Ah no,—for in Maine I will find thee
A sweetly sequestrated nook
Where the far winding Skoodoowabskooksis
Conjoiins with the Skoodoowabskook.
There wander two beautiful rivers,...
