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American poet
(1819 - 1891)
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Winds wanders, and dews drip earthward;
  Rains fall, suns rise and set;
    Earth whirls, and all but to prosper
      A poor little violet.
      - The Changeling [Violets]

For she was jes' the quiet kind
  Whose naturs never vary,
    Like streams that keep a summer mind
      Snowhip in Jenooary.
      - The Courtin' [Character]

God makes sech nights, all white an' still
  Fur'z you can look or listen,
    Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
      All silence an' all glisten.
      - The Courtin' [Night]

Says he--"I'd better call agin;"
  Says she--"Think likely, Mister!"
    Thet last word pricked him like a pin,
      An'--Wal, he up an' kist her.
      - The Courtin' [Kisses]

The pine is the mother of legends.
      - The Growth of a Legend [Pine]

The rich man's son inherits cares;
  The bank may break, the factory burn,
    A breath may burst his bubble shares,
      And soft, white hands could hardly earn
        A living that would serve his turn.
      - The Heritage [Riches : Wealth]

Tiny Salmoneus of the air
  His mimic bolts the firefly threw.
      - The Lesson [Fireflies]

Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
  In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side.
      - The Present Crisis [Decision]

Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust,
  Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis 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.
      - The Present Crisis [Truth]

Truth forever on the scaffold. Wrong forever on the throne.
      - The Present Crisis [Truth]

'Tis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves
  Of a legendary virtue carved upon our father's graves.
      - The Present Crisis (st. 15) [Heroes]

Behind the dim unknown,
  Standeth God with the shadow, keeping watch above his own.
      - The Present Crisis (st. 8) [Providence]

The green grass floweth like a stream
  Into the oceans's blue.
      - The Sirens (l. 87) [Grass]

Listen! O, listen!
  Here come the hum the golden bees
    Underneath full blossomed trees,
      At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned.
      - The Sirens (l. 94) [Bees]

And what is so rare as a day in June?
  Then, if ever, come perfect days;
    Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
      And over it softly her warm ear lays.
      - The Vision of Sir Launfal [June]

Daily with souls that cringe and plot,
  We Sinais climb and know it not.
      - The Vision of Sir Launfal
         (prelude to pt. I) [Mountains]

Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it,
  We are happy now because God wills it.
      - The Vision of Sir Launfal
         (prelude to pt. I, l. 61) [Happiness]

No price is set on the lavish summer;
  June may be had by the poorest comer.
      - The Vision of Sir Launfal (pt. I, prelude)

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,
  Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
      - The Vision of Sir Launfal (pt. II, VIII)

He seemed a cherub who had lost his way
  And wandered hither, so his stay
    With us was short, and 'twas most meet,
      That he should be no delver in earth's clod,
        Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet
          To stand before his God:
            O blest word--Evermore!
      - Threnodia [Babyhood]

Our seasons have no fixed returns,
  Without our will they come and go;
    At noon our sudden summer burns,
      Ere sunset all is snow.
      - To ----- [Seasons]

In general those who nothing have to say
  Contrive to spend the longest time in doing it.
      - To Charles Eliot Norton [Speech : Talk]

Master alike in speech and song
  Of fame's great antiseptic--Style,
    You with the classic few belong
      Who tempered wisdom with a smile.
      - To Oliver Wendell Holmes on His Seventy-fifth Birthday
        [Holmes, Oliver Wendell]

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
  Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
    First pledge of blithesome May,
      Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold,
        High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they
          An Eldorado in the grass have found,
            Which not the rich earth's ample round
              May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me
                Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be.
      - To the Dandelion [Dandelions]

What! shall one monk, scarce known beyond his cell,
  Front Rome's far-reaching bolts, and scorn her frown?
    Brave Luther answered, "Yes"; that thunder's swell
      Rocked Europe, and discharmed the triple crown.
      - To W.L. Garrison (st. 5) [Courage]

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