KISMET. To meet, to know, to love-and then to part, Is the sad tale of many a human heart. -A Couplet. SIMPLICITY. Oh, I do love thee, meek Simplicity! Goes to my heart, and soothes each small distress; I amble on; yet tho' I know not why, TO THE AUTUMNAL MOON. -Sonnets Mild splendor of the various-vested night! MRS. SIDDONS. -Ibid. As when a child on some long winter's night, Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees, With eager wond'ring and pertubed delight Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell; Or of those hags, who at the witching time Of murky midnight ride the air sublime, And mingle foul embrace with friends of Hell: Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell Of pretty babes, that loved each other dear, Murdered by cruel Uncle's mandate fell: Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart, Ev'n so thou, Siddons, meltest my sad heart! -Ibid. SHERIDAN. It was some spirit, Sheridan, that breath'd Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance Meanings of Scorn and Wit's quaint revelry! The Apostate by the brainless rout adored, SONNET. My heart has thanked thee, Bowles, for those soft strains Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring Of wild bees in the sunny showers of spring! For hence not callous to the mourner's pains Thro' Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went: And when the darker day of life began, As made the soul enamoured of her woe: RIVER OTTER. Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have passed, What blissful and what anguished hours, since last I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast, Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep imprest Sink the sweet scenes of Childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny blaze, But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy margin's willowy maze; And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, Gleamed through thy bright transparence to the gaze! Visions of Childhood! oft have ye beguiled Lone Manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs. Ah! that once more I were a careless child! -Ibid. WAR BALLADS. THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. OH, say, can you see by the dawn's early light What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave? On that shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream; 'Tis the star-spangled banner; oh, long may it wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave! And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore No refuge could save the hireling and slave Between their loved homes and the war's desolation! Blest with victory and peace, may the heavenrescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just; And this be our motto: "In God is our trust;" And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave. FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. BARBARA FRIETCHIE. Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Round about them orchards sweep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall Over the mountains winding down, Horses and foot into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Flapped in the morning wind; the sun Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bravest of all in Frederick town, In her attic window the staff she set, Up the street came the rebel tread, Under his slouched hat left and right It shivered the window, pane and sash; Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff She leaned far out on the window-sill, Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, The nobler nature within him stirred "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!" he said. All day long through Frederick street All day long that free flag tost Ever its torn folds rose and fell And through the hill-gaps sunset light And the rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Peace and order and beauty draw And ever the stars from above look down AMERICA. O MOTHER of a mighty race, And taunts of scorn they join thy name. For on thy cheeks the glow is spread That tints thy morning hills with red; Thy step, the wild deer's rustling feet Within thy woods are not more fleet: Thy hopeful eye Is bright as thine own sunny sky. Ay, let them rail, those haughty ones, While safe thou dwellest with thy sons. They do not know how loved thou art, How many a fond and fearless heart Would rise to throw Its life between thee and the foe. They know not, in their hate and pride, What generous men Spring, like thine oaks, by hill and glen; What cordial welcomes greet the guest And where the ocean border foams. There's freedom at thy gates, and rest Stops, and calls back his baffled hounds. O fair young mother! on thy brow Drop strength and riches at thy feet. Thine eye, with every coming hour, Would brand thy name with words of scorn, Upon their lips the taunt shall die. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. THE AMERICAN FLAG. WHEN Freedom from her mountain-height Unfurl'd her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heavenChild of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur-smoke, To ward away the battle-stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory! |