Poems

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1890
 

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Page 24 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
Page 23 - In that sure-footed mind's unfaltering skill, And supple-tempered will That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust. His was no lonely mountain-peak of mind, Thrusting to thin air o'er our cloudy bars, A sea-mark now, now lost in vapors blind; Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined, Fruitful and friendly for all human kind, Yet also nigh to Heaven and loved of loftiest stars.
Page 23 - Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true. How beautiful to see Once more a shepherd of mankind indeed, Who loved his charge, but never loved to lead ; One whose meek flock the people joyed to be, Not lured by any cheat of birth, But by his clear-grained human worth, And brave old wisdom of sincerity...
Page 25 - I sweep them for a paean, but they wane Again and yet again Into a dirge, and die away, in pain. In these brave ranks I only see the gaps, Thinking of dear ones whom the dumb turf wraps, Dark to the triumph which they died to gain...
Page 21 - And shock of deadly-hostile creeds, Where the world's best hope and stay By battle's flashes gropes a desperate way, And every turf the fierce foot clings to bleeds Peace hath her not ignoble wreath, Ere yet the sharp, decisive word Light the black lips of cannon, and the sword Dreams in its easeful sheath...
Page 30 - Whiteface he, And so leap on in light from sea to sea, Till the glad news be sent Across a kindling continent, Making earth feel more firm and air breathe braver...
Page 18 - Many loved Truth, and lavished life's best oil Amid the dust of books to find her, Content at last, for guerdon of their toil, With the cast mantle she hath left behind her.
Page 5 - His shall be larger manhood, saved for those . That walk unblenching through the trial-fires ; Not suffering, but faint heart, is worst of woes, And he no base-born son of craven sires, Whose eye need blench confronted with his foes. " Tears may be ours, but proud, for those who win Death's royal purple in the foeman's lines ; 330 TWO SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF BLONDEL.
Page 181 - WHAT means this glory round our feet," The Magi mused, " more bright than morn ? " And voices chanted clear and sweet, " To-day the Prince of Peace is born ! "
Page 26 - T is not the grapes of C'anaan that repay, But the high iaith that failed not by the way ; Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave ; No bar of endless night exiles the brave ; And to the saner mind We rather seem the dead that stayed behind. Blow, trumpets, all your exultations blow ! For never shall their aureoled presence lack : I see them muster in a gleaming row, With ever-youthful brows that nobler show; We find in our dull road their shining track ; In every nobler mood We feel the orient...

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