NATHANIEL P. WILLIS. 1817-1867. At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the city.1 Necessity for a Promenade Drive. For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart, And makes his pulses fly, To catch the thrill of a happy voice And the light of a pleasant eye. It is the month of June, Saturday Afternoon. The month of leaves and roses, And pleasant scents the noses. The Month of June. Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him! WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 1817- I laugh, for hope hath happy place with me; A Poet's Hope. I sing New England, as she lights her fire. Most joyful let the Poet be; It is through him that all men see. New England. The Poet of the Old and New Times 1 See Haliburton, page 580. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 1819-1891. Earth's noblest thing, a woman perfected. Irené. Be noble! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own. Sonnet it. Great truths are portions of the soul of man; Sonnet ri. To win the secret of a weed's plain heart. Sonnet zzv. Two meanings have our lightest fantasies, - Sonnet xxxiv. (Ed. 1844.) All thoughts that mould the age begin It may be glorious to write An Incident in a Railroad Car. Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight No man is born into the world whose work Ibid. A Glance behind the Curtain. One day with life and heart Columbus. Is more than time enough to find a world. Ibid. Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right; And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light. The Present Crisis. Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the Τ throne. Ibid. hen to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 't is prosperous to be just; Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified. Ibid. Before man made us citizens, great Nature made us On the Capture of Fugitive Slaves near Washington. men. Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, To the Dandelion. This child is not mine as the first was; I cannot sing it to rest; I cannot lift it up fatherly, And bless it upon my breast. Yet it lies in my little one's cradle, And the light of the heaven she's gone to Transfigures its golden hair. The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment. The Changeling. Longing. She doeth little kindnesses Which most leave undone, or despise. Not only around our infancy The Vision of Sir Launfal. Prelude to Part First. "Tis heaven alone that is given away; 'Tis only God may be had for the asking. And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays. Toid Ibid. Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it; Ibid. Ibid. Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how. Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, - Part Second. riii. There comes Emerson first, whose rich words, every one, Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on. A Fable for Critics. Nature fits all her children with something to do. Ez fer war, I call it murder, An' you've gut to git up airly Ibid. The Biglow Papers. First Series. No.i. Laborin' man an' laborin' woman Hev one glory an' one shame; Injers all on 'em the same. Ibid. This goin' ware glory waits ye haint one agreeable feetur.1 The Biglow Papers. First Series. No. ii. Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man; He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf; But consistency still wuz a part of his plan, He's ben true to one party, an' thet is himself. We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage. But John P. Sez they did n't know everythin' down in Judee. I don't believe in princerple, But oh I du in interest. Of my merit On thet pint you yourself may jedge; All is, I never drink no sperit, Nor I haint never signed no pledge. Ez to my princerples, I glory In hevin' nothin' o' the sort. Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown 'Ith no one nigh to hender. Ibid. No. ii. Ibid. No. vi. No. vit. Ibid. |