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OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 1809–

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!

Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky.

Old Ironsides
Nail to the mast her holy flag,

Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!

Ibid.
Like sentinel and nun, they keep
Their vigil on the green.

The Cambridge Churchyard.
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest

In their bloom ;
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.

The Last Leaf.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin

At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!

Ibid.
Thou say'st an undisputed thing
In such a solemn way.

To an Insect.
Their discords sting through Burns and Moore,
Like hedgehogs dressed in lace.

The Music-Grinders.
You think they are crusaders sent

From some infernal clime,
To pluck the eyes of sentiment

And dock the tail of Rhyme,
To crack the voice of Melody
And break the legs of Time.

Toid.

And since, I never dare to write

As funny as I can. The Height of the Ridiculous When the last reader reads no more. The Last Reuder, The freeman casting with unpurchased hand The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.

Poetry, a Metrical Essay 'T is the heart's current lends the cup its glow, Whate'er the fountain whence the draught may flow.

A Sentiment, Yes, child of suffering, thou mayst well be sure He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor !

A Rhymed Lesson. Urania.
And when you stick on conversation's burrs,
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs.

Ibid.
Thine eye was on the censer,
And not the hand that bore it.

Lines by a Clerk.
Where go the poet's lines ?

Answer, ye evening tapers !
Ye auburn locks, ye golden curls,
Speak from your folded papers !

The Poet's Lot. A few can touch the magic string,

And noisy Fame is proud to win them;
Alas for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them !

The Voiceless. O hearts that break and give no sign

Save whitening lip and fading tresses ! Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

The Chambered Nautilus.

Ibid

His home! the Western giant smiles,

And twirls the spotty globe to find it;
This little speck, the British Isles ?
'T is but a freckle,

never mind it.

A Good Time going
But Memory blushes at the sneer,

And Honor turns with frown defiant,
And Freedom, leaning on her spear,

Laughs louder than the laughing giant. Ibid.
You hear that boy laughing? - you think he's all fun;
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done;
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call,
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all.

The Boys. Good to the heels the well-worn slipper feels

When the tired player shuffles off the buskin;
A page of Hood may do a fellow good
After a scolding from Carlyle or Ruskin.

How not to settle it. A thought is often original, though you have uttered it a hundred times. The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i.

People that make puns are like wanton boys that put coppers on the railroad tracks.

Ibid. Everybody likes and respects self-made men.

It is a great deal better to be made in that way than not to be made at all.

Ibid. Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.

Ibid. ri. There is that glorious epicurean paradox uttered by my friend the historian,' in one of his flashing moments : "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."

To this must certainly be added that

1 John Lothrop Motley.

Said Scopas of Thessaly, "We rich men count our felicity and happi. ness to lie in these superfluities, and not in those necessary things." – Plu. TARCH : On the Love of Wealth.

other saying of one of the wittiest of men:1“Good Americans when they die go to Paris."

The Autocral of the Breakfast-Table. ri. Boston State-house is the hub of the solar system. You could n't pry that out of a Boston man if you had the tire of all creation straightened out for a crow-bar.

Toid.

The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city.

Ibid. The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.

Ibid. Knowledge and timber should n't be much used till they are seasoned.

Ibid. The hat is the ultimum moriens of respectability.

Ibid. fui. To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.

On the Seventieth Birthday of Julia Ward Howe (May 27, 2889).

ROBERT C. WINTHROP. 1809-

Our Country, - whether bounded by the St. John's and the Sabine, or however otherwise bounded or described, and be the measurements more or less, – still our Country, to be cherished in all our hearts, to be defended by all our hands.

Toast at Faneuil Hall on the Fourth of July, 1845. A star for every State, and a State for every star.

Address on Boston Common in 1862 There are no points of the compass on the chart of true patriotism.

Letter to Boston Commercial Club in 1879.

1 Thomas G. Appleton.

WINTHROP.

ALDRICH. — PARKER.

639

The poor must be wisely visited and liberally cared for, so that mendicity shall not be tempted into mendacity, nor want exasperated into crime.

Yorktown Oration in 1881. Slavery is but half abolished, emancipation is but half completed, while millions of freemen with votes in their hands are left without education. Justice to them, the welfare of the States in which they live, the safety of the whole Republic, the dignity of the elective franchise, - all alike demand that the still remaining bonds of ignorance shall be unloosed and broken, and the minds as well as the bodies of the emancipated go free.

Ibid.

JAMES ALDRICH. 1810–1856.

Her suffering ended with the day,

Yet lived she at its close,
And breathed the long, long night away
In statue-like repose.

A Death-Bed.
But when the sun in all his state

Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through Glory's morning-gate,
And walked in Paradise.

Ibid.

THEODORE PARKER. 1810–1860.

... This

There is what I call the American idea. idea demands, as the proximate organization thereof, a democracy, - that is, a government of all the people, by all the people, for all the people; of course, a government of the principles of eternal justice, the unchanging law of God. For shortness' sake I will call it the idea of Freedom.'

Speech at the N. E. Antislavery Convention, Boston,

May 29, 1850.

I See Daniel Webster, page 532.

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