The Arch Apostate (James Monroe Whitfield Poems)
"Since he miscalled the morning star,Nor man, nor fiend hath fallen so far."— ByronWhen gathered in the courts above, Before Jehovah's ...
"Since he miscalled the morning star,Nor man, nor fiend hath fallen so far."— ByronWhen gathered in the courts above, Before Jehovah's ...
In vain thou bid'st me strike the lyre, And sing a song of mirth and glee,Or, kindling with poetic fire, Attempt some ...
America, it is to thee,Thou boasted land of liberty, —It is to thee I raise my song,Thou land of blood, ...
I just had turned the classic page, With ancient lore and wisdom fraught,Which many a hoary-headed sage Had stamped with never-dying thought;And ...
I love the man whose lofty mind On God and its own strength relies;Who seeks the welfare of his kind, And dare ...
There's music wheresoe'er we roam —'T is heard in ocean's crested foam,And in the billows' deafening roar,Which madly burst upon ...
Oh great Jehovah! God of love, Thou monarch of the earth and sky,Canst thou from thy great throne above Look down with ...
In the bright dreams of early youth, I strung my lyre, and waked a strain,In praise of friendship, love and truth, Without ...
In the bright days of early youth, Hope told a fond, delusive taleOf lasting friendship, holy truth, And steadfast love which ne'er ...
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