Browse Items (752 total)

Slowly, with measured tread, Onward we bear the dead To his long home. Short grows the homeward road, On with your mortal load. Oh, grave! we come. Yet, yet - ah! hasten not Past each remembered spot Where he hath been; Where late he walked in…

Lament who will, in fruitless tears, The speed with which our moments fly: I sigh not over vanished years, But watch the year that hastens by. Look how they come! - a mingled crowd Of bright and dark, but rabid days; Beneath them, like a summer…

The words went to thy heart! why were they new? -Long, long since was the title richly earn'd;Here is oppression's home - nor is her powerFelt only the injured, suffering slave;Among the free, the wealthy, whose who seemTo lead a happy life, are many…

The night was made for cooling shade, For silence, and for sleep; And when I was a child, I laid My hands upon my breast and prayed, And sank to slumbers deep. Child-like as then I lie to-night, And watch my lonely cabin light. Each movement of…

The camp has had its day of song; The sword, the bayonet, the plume, Have crowded out of song too long The plow, the anvil, and the loom Oh! not upon our tented fields Are freedom's heroes bred alone; The training of the workshop yields More…

DEAR ANGEL of my heart,Dry up those pearly dews,At eve tho' I depart,Think not `twill be for years.Some morn like this, my love,I'll bring thee back thy Knight,Thy plighted faith he'll prove,And seek no more the fight.Deem'st thou our haughty…

We find the following clever parody on Wordsworth's celebrated "Old Oaken Bucket" in the (old) "Spirit of the Times:" How sweet to the taste is the Irish potato, As memory awakens a thought of the plant; Its dark verdant vine-top and beautiful…

"Come with us and we will do thee good." - NUM. x. 29. ------- OH! come with us, the mazy round Of pleasure hath been tried, And all her promised joy been found To pain and guilt allied. The varied stores of human lore Have lost their power to…

A jaunty, tidy, sober lot ye are,
My lordly innocents. A bumper to
Your health I drink. I would that skies deep blue
In friendship's light be ever thine, thy star
Of hope be Truth, thy fondest dreams no bar
To block thy way to fame. If winds…

"What is there sadd'ning in the Autumn leaves?"Have they that "green and yellow Melancholy"That the sweet poet spake of? - Had he seenOur variegated woods, when first the frostTurns into beauty all October's charms -When the dread fever quits us -…