The world is half-darkened with the croakers,
Whose burdens are weighing them down;
They croak of their stars and ill-usage.
And grope in the ditch for a crown.
Why talk to the wind of thy fortune,
Or clutch at distinction and gold?
If thou…
"Lord, thou art great!" I cry when in the East,
The day is blooming like a rose of fire,
When to partake anew of life's rich feast
Nature and man awake with fresh desire;
When art thou seen more gracious, God of power? Than in the morn's great…
"Man was never made to mourn,"
Spring, Appollo, to thy feet!
Cast despairing thoughts away,
Taste the cup of life how sweet.
Seize the hammer, seize the spade,
Yoke the oxen to the plough,
And bright thy lamps of life shall be,
Earning plenty…
Who shall judge a man from manners?
Who shall know him by his dress?
Paupers may be fit for princes,
Princes fit for something less.
Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket
May beclothe the golden ore
Of the deepest thoughts and feeling—
Satin vests…
Mildly judge ye of each other—
Be to condemnation slow;
The very best have got their failings,
Something good the worst can show.
The brilliant sun hath spots of darkness
On his radiant front, they say,
And the clock that never goeth
Speaks…
I saw the in the cloud, mother,
Thou smilest on me there:
The sunny wreath—thy shroud mother
Thy grave—the spangled air!
Thy wing, all golden seems, mother,
To span the heavens broad,
And urge thy shining course, mother,
Among the isles of…
At the request of several friends the following poem was read, composed and presented by Rev S.M. Giles, as a memorial:MOUNT ZION CORNER STONEAlmighty God thy blessings grant,
On what we here perform:
And may thy dwelling place be where
We lay…
DENIES THE SOFT IMPEACHMENTOne of our native poets, tickeled at a little circumstance that happened in his family, in a sentimental fit rushed into print with it, and attempted to father it upon the carelessness of St. Peter but that custodian, it…
They sleep; athwart my white
Moon-marbled casement, with her solemn mein, Silently watching o'er their rest serene,
Gazeth the star-eyed Night.
My girl, sedate or wild,
By turns as playful as a summer breze, Or grave as Night or star-lit Southern…
I loved them soThat when the elder Sheperd of the foldCam, covered with the storm, and pale and cold,And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold,I bade him go.He claimed the pet,A little foundling thing, that to my breastClung always, either in…
