From the memory of the old menPass away the great traditions,The achievements of the warriors,The adventures of the hunters,All the wisdom of the Medas,All the craft of the Wabenos,All the marvellous dreams and visionsOf the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!‘Great men die and are forgotten,Wise men speak; their words of wisdomPerish in the ears that hear them,Do…
Ovid, Fastorum, Lib. vi.‘O Cæsar, we who are about to dieSalute you! ‘ was the gladiators’ cryIn the arena, standing face to faceWith death and with the Roman populace.O ye familiar scenes,- ye groves of pine,That once were mine and are no longer mine,-Thou river, widening through the meadows greenTo the vast sea, so near…
Life is but an empty dream!–For the soul is dead that slumbers,And things are not what they seem.Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;Dust thou art, to dust returnest,Was not spoken of the soul.Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each to-morrowFind us farther…
A ladder, if we will but treadBeneath our feet each deed of shame!All common things, each day’s events,That with the hour begin and end,Our pleasures and our discontents,Are rounds by which we may ascend.The low desire, the base design,That makes another’s virtues less;The revel of the ruddy wine,And all occasions of excess;The longing for ignoble…
With portraitures of huntsman, hawk, and hound,And the hurt deer. He listeneth to the lark,Whose song comes with the sunshine through the darkOf painted glass in leaden lattice bound;He listeneth and he laugheth at the sound,Then writeth in a book like any clerk.He is the poet of the dawn, who wroteThe Canterbury Tales, and his…
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with lightFrom the celestial walls!I felt her presence, by its spell of might,Stoop o’er me from above;The calm, majestic presence of the Night,As of the one I love.I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,The manifold, soft chimes,That fill the haunted chambers of the NightLike some old poet’s…
With his fishing-line of cedar,Of the twisted bark of cedar,Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma,Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes,In his birch canoe exultingAll alone went Hiawatha.Through the clear, transparent waterHe could see the fishes swimmingFar down in the depths below him;See the yellow perch, the Sahwa,Like a sunbeam in the water,See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish,Like a…
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations,That is known as the Children’s Hour.I hear in the chamber above meThe patter of little feet,The sound of a door that is opened,And voices soft and sweet.From my study I see in the lamplight,Descending the broad hall stair,Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,And Edith with golden hair.A whisper, and…
For, so swiftly it flew, the sightCould not follow it in its flight.I breathed a song into the air,It fell to earth, I knew not where;For who has sight so keen and strong,That it can follow the flight of song?Long, long afterward, in an oakI found the arrow, still unbroke;And the song, from beginning to…
