#Americans
At the meeting of the New York H… February 21, 1878. ‘CHRISTO ET ECCLESLE.’ 170… To GOD’S ANOINTED AND… So ran the phrase the black-robed…
'OUR FIRST CITIZEN’ WINTER’S cold drift lies gliste… For him no spring shall bid the le… What Love could speak, by sudden… What swiftly summoned Memory tell…
DECEMBER 17, 1877 I BELIEVE that the copies of v… Like Scheherezade’s tales, are a… You remember the story,—those morn… ‘T was the turn of a copper,—a tal…
LOOK out! Look out, boys! Clear… The witches are here! They’ve all… They hanged them high,—No use! No… What cares a witch for a hangman’s… They buried them deep, but they wo…
A BALLAD IT was the stalwart butcher man, That knit his swarthy brow, And said the gentle Pig must die, And sealed it with a vow.
OLD Rip Van Winkle had a grands… Of the paternal block a genuine ch… A lazy, sleepy, curious kind of ch… He, like his grandsire, took a mig… Whereof the story I propose to te…
How long will this harp which you… Cheat your lips of a smile or your… How long stir the echoes it wakene… While its strings were unbroken, u… Dear friends of my boyhood, my wor…
WAN-VISAGED thing! thy virgin… To me looks more than deadly pale, Unknowing what may stain thee yet,… A poem or a tale. Who can thy unborn meaning scan?
Facts respecting an old arm chair. At Cambridge. Is kept in the Col… Seems but little the worse for wea… That’s remarkable when I say It was old in President Holyoke’s…
CAMBRIDGE, JULY 21, 1865 FOUR summers coined their golden… Four wasteful autumns flung them t… Four winters wore the shroud the t… The fourth wan April weeps o’er h…
HAS there any old fellow got mixe… If there has, take him out, withou… Hang the Almanac’s cheat and the… Old Time is a liar! We’re twenty… We’re twenty! We’re twenty! Who s…
WHEN evening’s shadowy fingers f… The flowers of every hue, Some shy, half-opened bud will hol… Its drop of morning’s dew. Sweeter with every sunlit hour
DEDICATED TO THE STA… Now, while our soldiers are fighti… Each at his post to do all that he… Down among rebels and contraband c… What are you doing, my sweet littl…
I saw the curl of his waving lash, And the glance of his knowing eye, And I knew that he thought he was… As his steed went thundering by. And he may ride in the rattling gi…
FOR THE MEETING OF T… MEDICAL SOCIETY, 1859 'T is sweet to fight our battles o… And crown with honest praise The gray old chief, who strikes no…