The Rose Of The Wilderness (Gathered In Crossing A Portage On The River Winnipeg) (George Jehoshaphat Mountain Poems)
WHAT doest thou here, fair rose, on rocky shore Opening thy pure and scented breast to blushIn these rude wilds, ...
WHAT doest thou here, fair rose, on rocky shore Opening thy pure and scented breast to blushIn these rude wilds, ...
I. O wild kaleidoscopic panorama of jaculatory arms and legs. The twisting, twining, turning, tussling, throwing, thrusting, throttling, tugging, thumping, the tightening thews. The tearing of tangled trousers, the jut of giant calves protuberant. The wriggleness, the wormlike, snaky movement and life of it; The insertion of strong men in the mud, the wallowing, the stamping with thick shoes; The rowdyism, and élan, the slugging and scraping, the cowboy Homeric ferocity. (Ah, well kicked, red legs! Hit her up, you muddy little hero, you!) The bleeding noses, the shins, the knuckles abraded: That's the way to make men! Go it, you border ruffians, I like ye.II. Only two sorts of men are any good, I wouldn't give a cotton hat for no other — The Poet and the Plug Ugly. They are picturesque. O, but ain't they? These college chaps, these bouncing fighters from M'Gill and Toronto, Are all right. I must have a fighter, a bully, somewhat of a desperado; Of course, I prefer them raw, uneducated, unspoiled by book rot; I reckon these young fellows, these howling Kickapoos of the puddle, these boys, Have been uneducated to an undemocratic and feudal-aristocratic extent; Lord! how they can kick, though! Another man slugged there!III. Unnumbered festoons of pretty Canadian girls, I salute you; Howl away, you non-playing encouragers of the kickers! Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, M'Gill! Rah, Rah, Rah, Sis, Boom, Toronto! Lusty-throated give it! O, wild, tumultuous, multitudinous shindy. Well, this is the boss; This is worth coming twenty miles to see. Personally, I haven't had so much fun since I was vaccinated. I wonder if the Doctor spectates it. Here is something beyond his plesiosauri. Pure physical glow and exultation this of abundantest muscle: I wish John Sullivan were here.IV. O, the kicking, stamping, punching, the gore and the glory of battle! Kick, kick, kick, kick, kick, kick. Will you kick! You kickers, scoop up the mud, steam plough the field, Fall all over yourselves, squirm out! Look at that pile-driver of a full-back there! Run, leg it, hang on to the ball; say, you big chump, don't you kill that little chap When you are about it. Well, I'd like to know what a touch down is, then? Draw? Where's your draw? Yer lie!(Anonymous Americas)
Where the dark ash upward towereth,And the maple drops her brown shade,And the rough oak spreads his broad arms,And the ...
"THIS realm is sacred to the silent past; Within its drowsy shades are treasures rare Of dust and dreams; ...
It had five chimneys, had that Inn, (As every man has senses five, The while upon earth he bides alive) ...
I see him at his case,With his anxious cheerless face, Worn and brown;And the types' unceasing click,As they drop ...
TO AN OLD TREE. WHERE thy broad branches brave the bitter North,Like rugged, indigent, unheeded, worth,Lo! Vegetation's guardian hands embossEach ...
IShe sate upon her Dobie, To watch the Evening Star,And all the Punkahs as they passed, ...
How dimly through these window panes The struggling light intrudes! What solemn silence broodsIn this old ...
"BLOW, mountain-breeze! all wild, like thee, Unfetter'd as thy wing, I rove; With airy step and spirit free, From snowy ...
"OH! bear me to the groves of palm, Where perfum'd airs diffuse their balm! And when the noon-tide beams invade, ...
Gnats and an ant have gnawed your nimble bones-You who could spring and sprawl on your own thread Down half ...
I'm coming along with a bounding pace, To finish the work that spring begun; I've left them all with a ...
snow is a thousand flowers the chinese probably said hundreds and thousands this morning drop their garlands on my head ...
In memory of Father Flye, 1884-1985 The strange and wonderful are too much with us. The protea of the antipodes-a ...
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound ...
SUNDAY night and the park policemen tell each other it is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake ...
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and ...
Ye sons of Germany, your noble Emperor William now is dead. Who oft great armies to battle hath led; He ...
(November, 1863) A kindling impulse seized the host Inspired by heaven's elastic air; Their hearts outran their General's plan, Though ...
In long gone years a fox and crane Were bound in friendship's golden chain; Whene'er they met, the fox would ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories