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Ticknor, Reed & Fields, 1852 - American poetry - 286 pages
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Page 22 - AY, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more ! Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 85 - THE LAST LEAF I SAW him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through Mie town.
Page 269 - And all his sturdy men-at-arms were ranged about the board. He poured the fiery Hollands in, — the man that never feared, — He took a long and solemn draught, and wiped his yellow beard; And one by one the musketeers — the men that fought and prayed — All drank as 'twere their mother's milk, and not a man afraid.
Page 23 - Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;— The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea.
Page 87 - My grandmamma has said — Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago— That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At...
Page 205 - Insight" shouts in Nature's ears His last conundrum on the orbs and spheres; There Self-inspection sucks its little thumb, With "Whence am I?" and "Wherefore did I come?" Deluded infants ! will they ever know Some doubts must darken o'er the world below; Though all the Platos of the nursery trail Their "clouds of glory
Page 166 - ... stained The rising mist of day. Hark ! hark ! I hear yon whistling shroud, I see yon quivering mast ; The black throat of the hunted cloud Is panting forth the blast ! An hour, and, whirled like winnowing chaff, The giant surge shall fling His tresses o'er yon pennon...
Page 187 - ... storm-clouds the thunder-burst rolling, Circles the beat of the mustering drum. Fast on the soldier's path Darken the waves of wrath, Long have they gathered and loud shall they fall ; Red glares the musket's flash, Sharp rings the rifle's crash, Blazing and clanging from thicket and wall. Gayly the plume of the horseman was dancing, Never to shadow his cold brow again ; Proudly at morning the war-steed was prancing, Reeking and panting he droops on the rein...
Page 173 - COME back to your mother, ye children, for shame, Who have wandered like truants, for riches or fame ! With a smile on her face, and a sprig in her cap, She calls you to feast from her bountiful lap.
Page 94 - By every name I cut on bark Before my morning star grew dark ; By Hymen's torch, by Cupid's dart, By all that thrills the beating heart ; The bright black eye, the melting blue, — I cannot choose between the two. I had a vision in my dreams ; — I saw a row of twenty beams...

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