A Successful Dad (Edgar Albert Guest Poems)
OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavorTo capture life's prizes, and others may sneer;The whole world may loudly declare I ...
OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavorTo capture life's prizes, and others may sneer;The whole world may loudly declare I ...
FROM yon fair hill, whose woody crest The mantling hand of spring has dress'd, Where gales imbibe the May-perfume, And ...
EVIL has brought forth good, but good in turn Brings evil forth, and painfully we learn The rich resulting harmony ...
He did n't know much music When first he come along; An' all the birds went wonderin' Why ...
I covet not a high-born dame;An equal in degreeIs all I seek; for wealth and fameHeaven never meant for me.I ...
I.Merry chimer, merry chimer,Oh, sing once more,Again outpour,Like some long-applauded mimer,All thy vocal store.II.Thy short but oft-repeated song,At early dawn,Awakes ...
Sing on, sweet feathered warbler, sing!Mount higher on thy joyous wing,And let thy morning anthem ringFull on my ear;Thou art ...
I love to tread the solitudes,The forests and the trackless woods,Where nature, undisturbed by man,Pursues her voluntary plan.Where nature's chemistry ...
Hail! dearest day of all the storied year! Belated songsters of the withering wood, And hardy flowers, whose vigor has ...
May! queen of blossoms,And fulfilling flowers,With what pretty musicShall we charm the hours?Wilt thou have pipe and reed,Blown in the ...
SEE light the hills adorning, The lark begins her strains,As brightly gleams the morning, Wide breaking o'er the ...
I Winter is white on turf and tree, And birds are fled; But summer songsters pipe to me, And petals ...
IN the deepest nights of Winter To the Muses kind oft cried I: "Not a ray of morn is gleaming, ...
With many a pause and oft reverted eye I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near Warble in shade their ...
Lines composed while climbing the left ascent of Brockley Coomb, May 1795 With many a pause and oft reverted eye ...
He. O PHILLY, happy be that day, When roving thro' the gather'd hay, My youthfu' heart was stown away, And ...
O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi' a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, ...
WHEN AURORA'S soft blushes o'erspread the blue hill, And the mist dies away at the glances of morn; When the ...
Yes, I will go, where circling whirlwinds rise, Where threat'ning clouds in sable grandeur lour; Where the blast yells, the ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
All yesterday it poured, and all night long I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat Upon the shingled roof ...
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