The Portrait (John Pierpont Poems)
Why does the eye, with greater pleasure, restOn the proud oak, in vernal honors drest,When sultry gales, that to his ...
Why does the eye, with greater pleasure, restOn the proud oak, in vernal honors drest,When sultry gales, that to his ...
There was, some eighteen years or more ago,A young man, a parishioner of mine,Whose name was Willard. There are Willards ...
Where Britannia's emerald islesGem the Caribbean sea,And an endless summer smiles,Lo! the negro thrall is free!Yet not on Columbia's plains,Hath ...
Let the trump of FameBe blown in praise of all,Who, in Virtue's name,Fight or bravely fall!On the heroes move,Though hosts ...
My country! 'tis of thee,Sweet land of liberty—Of thee I sing,Land where my fathers died;Land of the pilgrim's pride;From every ...
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