The star-bespangled heavenly scroll, And such the trust that still were mine, And calm and peaceful shall I sleep, 6. John Howard Payne (1791-1852) was a dramatist who won lasting fame through his song Home, Sweet Home! This occurs in his opera Clari, the Maid of Milan, which was first produced at Covent Garden, London, in 1823. HOME, SWEET HOME! Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home! An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; Give me them-and the peace of mind, dearer than all! There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home! How sweet 'tis to sit 'neath a fond father's smile, Let others delight mid new pleasures to roam, But give me, O, give me, the pleasures of home! There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home! To thee I'll return, overburdened with care; There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home! 7. George Morris (1802-1864) is remembered to-day for his poem Woodman, Spare That Tree. WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE! Woodman, spare that tree! The old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown And wouldst thou hew it down? Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that aged oak When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand- But let that old oak stand. My heart-strings round thee cling, And still thy branches bend. Thy axe shall harm it not. 8. Nathaniel Parker Willis (1807-1867) was born in New England and educated at Yale, but he identified himself with the literary life of New York City, especially with its periodical literature. He was sent abroad by the management of the Mirror in order to contribute European letters to the magazine. He founded the Home Journal, a weekly which is still popular. Professor Barrett Wendell considers him the most characteristic New York man of letters after the year 1832, the most typical of the school which flourished throughout the career of the Knickerbocker Magazine (1833-1864), and says: "In his palmy days he was the most popular American writer outside of New England." But his work has proved ephemeral, for it was almost wholly occasional. His Sacred Poems represent his best achievement. THE BELFRY PIGEON On the cross-beam under the Old South bell, In summer and winter, that bird is there, I love to see him track the street And the belfry edge is gained at last; Whatever is rung on that noisy bell,- When the clock strikes clear at morning light, Sweet bird! I would that I could be Canst smooth the feathers on thy breast, I would that, on such wings of gold, And while the world throngs on beneath, Smooth down my cares and calmly breathe; ABSALOM The waters slept. Night's silvery veil hung low On Jordan's bosom, and the eddies curled Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse. The reeds bent down the stream; the willow leaves, King David's limbs were weary. He had fled From far Jerusalem; and now he stood, With his faint people, for a little rest, Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow To its refreshing breath; for he had worn The mourner's covering, and he had not felt That he could see his people until now. They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, And spoke their kindly words; and, as the sun Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there, And bowed his head upon his hands to pray. Oh! when the heart is full,-when bitter thoughts Come crowding thickly up for utterance, And the poor common words of courtesy Are such an empty mockery, how much The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer! |