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Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art.

A stoic of the woods,

To the Rainbow.

a man without a tear.
Gertrude of Wyoming. Part i. Stanza 23.

O Love! in such a wilderness as this.

Part iii. Stanza 1.

The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below!

Again to the battle, Achaians!

Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!

Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree,

It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free.

Stanza 5.

Song of the Greeks.

Drink ye to her that each loves best!

And if you nurse a flame

That's told but to her mutual breast,
We will not ask her name.

To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die.

Oh leave this barren spot to me!

Drink ye to Her.

Hallowed Ground.

Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree!1

The Beech-Tree's Petition.

HENRY CLAY.

1777-1852.

The gentleman [Josiah Quincy] cannot have forgotten his own sentiment, uttered even on the floor of this House, "Peaceably if we can, forcibly if we must." 2

Speech, 1813.

1 Woodman, spare that tree!

Touch not a single bough!

G. P. MORRIS: Woodman, spare that Tree.

2 See Quincy, page 505.

Government is a trust, and the officers of the government are trustees; and both the trust and the trustees are created for the benefit of the people.

Speech at Ashland, Ky., March, 1829.

I have heard something said about allegiance to the South. I know no South, no North, no East, no West, to which I owe any allegiance.

Speech, 1848.

Sir, I would rather be right than be President.
Speech, 1850 (referring to the Compromise Measures).

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And the star-spangled banner, oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
The Star-Spangled Banner.

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a

nation! 1

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.

Ibid.

HORACE SMITH. 1779-1849.

Thinking is but an idle waste of thought,

And nought is everything and everything is nought.

Rejected Addresses. Cui Bono?

In the name of the Prophet - figs.

Johnson's Ghost.

And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!)
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,

When the Memnonium was in all its glory.

Address to the Mummy at Belzoni's Exhibition.

1 It made and preserves us a nation. -MORRIS: The Flag of our Union.

THOMAS MOORE. 1779-1852.

When Time who steals our years away
Shall steal our pleasures too,
The mem'ry of the past will stay,
And half our joys renew.

Song. From Juvenile Poems.

Weep on! and as thy sorrows flow,
I'll taste the luxury of woe.

Where bastard Freedom waves

The fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

Anacreontic.

To the Lord Viscount Forbes, written from the City of Washington.

How shall we rank thee upon glory's page,
Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage?

To Thomas Hume.

I knew, by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd
Above the green elms, that a cottage was near;
And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world,
A heart that was humble might hope for it here."

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,

Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.

Ballad Stanzas.

A Canadian Boat-Song.

Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past.

Ibid.

The minds of some of our statesmen, like the pupil of the human eye, contract themselves the more, the stronger light there is shed upon them.

Preface to Corruption and Intolerance.

Like a young eagle who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
See their own feathers pluck'd to wing the dart
Which rank corruption destines for their heart.1

1 See Waller, page 220.

Corruption.

A Persian's heaven is eas'ly made: "T is but black eyes and lemonade.

Intercepted Letters. Letter vi.

There was a little man, and he had a little soul;
And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!

Little Man and Little Soul.

Go where glory waits thee!1
But while fame elates thee,

Oh, still remember me!

Go where Glory waits thee.

Oh, breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid,

Oh breathe not his Name.

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

The harp that once through Tara's halls

The soul of music shed,

Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls

As if that soul were fled.

So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o'er;

And hearts that once beat high for praise

Now feel that pulse no more.

Ibid.

The Harp that once through Tara's Halls.

Who ran

Through each mode of the lyre, and was master of all.

On the Death of Sheridan.

Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright,
Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.

Good at a fight, but better at a play;
Godlike in giving, but the devil to pay.

Ibid.

On a Cast of Sheridan's Hand.

1 This going ware glory waits ye haint one agreeable feetur. LOWELL: The Biglow Papers. First Series, No. 11.

Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print.
The Fudges in England. Letter iii.

Fly not yet; 't is just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,

Begins to bloom for sons of night
And maids who love the moon.

Oh stay! oh stay!

Joy so seldom weaves a chain

Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain

To break its links so soon.

When did morning ever break,

And find such beaming eyes awake?

Fly not yet.

Ibid.

Ibid.

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers
Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Oh think not my Spirits are always as light.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,

And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

Rich and rare were the Gems she wore.

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet

As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.

The Meeting of the Waters.

Oh, weep for the hour

When to Eveleen's bower

The lord of the valley with false vows came.

Eveleen's Bower.

Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?

Come, send round the Wine.

No, the heart that has truly lov'd never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close;
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turn'd when he rose.

Believe me, if all those endearing young Charms.

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