(1882)
#Americans
The south—wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power,
Every day brings a ship, Every ship brings a word; Well for those who have no fear, Looking seaward well assured That the word the vessel brings
Wise and polite,—and if I drew Their several portraits, you would… Chaucer had no such worthy crew, Nor Boccace in Decameron. We crossed Champlain to Keesevill…
Trees in groves, Kine in droves, In ocean sport the scaly herds, Wedge—like cleave the air the bird… To northern lakes fly wind—borne d…
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told the truant by his marks, Golden curls, and quiver, and bow;…
What care I, so they stand the sa… Things of the heavenly mind,— How long the power to give them fa… Tarries yet behind? Thus far to—day your favors reach,
Set not thy foot on graves; Hear what wine and roses say; The mountain chase, the summer wav… The crowded town, thy feet may wel… Set not thy foot on graves;
We are met to exchange congratulations on the anniversary of an event singular in the history of civilization; a day of reason; of the clear light; of that which makes us better than a ...
I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco—leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth—poles to the Line, All between that works or grows, Every thing is kin of mine.
I serve you not, if you I follow, Shadow—like, o’er hill and hollow, And bend my fancy to your leading, All too nimble for my treading. When the pilgrimage is done,
In May, when sea-winds pierced ou… I found the fresh Rhodora in the… Spreading its leafless blooms in a… To please the desert and the slugg… The purple petals, fallen in the p…
I heard or seemed to hear the chid… Say, Pilgrim, why so late and slo… Am I not always here, thy summer… Is not my voice thy music, morn an… My breath thy healthful climate in…
I mourn upon this battle—field, But not for those who perished her… Behold the river—bank Whither the angry farmers came, In sloven dress and broken rank,
Long I followed happy guides,— I could never reach their sides. Their step is forth, and, ere the… Breaks up their leaguer, and away. Keen my sense, my heart was young,
Askest ‘How long thou shall stay?… Devastator of the day! Know, each substance and relation Thorough nature’s operation, Hath its unit, bound, and metre,