Part i
._
Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit, rest thee now!
_Siege of Valencia. Scene ix._
Oh, call my brother back to me! I cannot play alone: The summer comes with flower and bee,-- Where is my brother gone?
_The Child's First Grief._
I have looked on the hills of the stormy North, And the larch has hung his tassels forth.
_The Voice of Spring._
I had a hat. It was not all a hat,-- Part of the brim was gone: Yet still I wore it on.
_Rhine Song of the German Soldiers after Victory._
EDWARD EVERETT. 1794-1865.
When I am dead, no pageant train Shall waste their sorrows at my bier, Nor worthless pomp of homage vain Stain it with hypocritic tear.
_Alaric the Visigoth._
You shall not pile, with servile toil, Your monuments upon my breast, Nor yet within the common soil Lay down the wreck of power to rest, Where man can boast that he has trod On him that was "the scourge of God."
_Alaric the Visigoth._
No gilded dome swells from the lowly roof to catch the morning or evening beam; but the love and gratitude of united America settle upon it in one eternal sunshine. From beneath that humble roof went forth the intrepid and unselfish warrior, the magistrate who knew no glory but his country's good; to that he returned, happiest when his work was done. There he lived in noble simplicity, there he died in glory and peace. While it stands, the latest generations of the grateful children of America will make this pilgrimage to it as to a shrine; and when it shall fall, if fall it must, the memory and the name of Washington shall shed an eternal glory on the spot.
_Oration on the Character of Washington._
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 1794-1878.
Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race?
_The Ages. xxxiii._
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language.
_Thanatopsis._
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
_Thanatopsis._
The hills, Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun.
_Thanatopsis._
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste.
_Thanatopsis._
All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.
_Thanatopsis._
So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves[572-1] To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
_Thanatopsis._
The groves were God's first temples.
_A Forest Hymn._
The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
_March._
But 'neath yon crimson tree Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame, Nor mark, within its roseate canopy, Her blush of maiden shame.
_Autumn Woods._
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.
_The Death of the Flowers._
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
_The Death of the Flowers._
Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
_A Scene on the Banks of the Hudson._
The victory of endurance born.
_The Battle-Field._
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,-- The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers.
_The Battle-Field._
FOOTNOTES:
[572-1] The edition of 1821 read,--
The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take.
JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. 1795-1820.
When Freedom from her mountain-height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light.
Flag of the free heart's hope and home! By angel hands to valour given! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
_The American Flag._
JOHN KEATS. 1795-1821.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever; Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness.
_Endymion. Book i ._
He ne'er is crown'd With immortality, who fears to follow Where airy voices lead.
_Endymion. Book ii ._
To sorrow I bade good-morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly; She is so constant to me, and so kind.
_Endymion. Book iv ._
So many, and so many, and such glee.
_Endymion. Book iv ._
Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is--Love, forgive us!--cinders, ashes, dust.
_Lamia. Part ii ._
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.
_Lamia.