Winters know Easily to shed the snow, And the untaught Spring is wise In cowslips and anemones. Nature, hating art and pains,

Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told the truant by his marks, Golden curls, and quiver, and bow;…

Ruby wine is drunk by knaves, Sugar spends to fatten slaves, Rose and vine—leaf deck buffoons; Thunder—clouds are Jove’s festoon… Drooping oft in wreaths of dread,

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay… On board of the Cumberland, sloop… And at times from the fortress acr… The alarum of drums swept past, Or a bugle blast

We are met to exchange congratulations on the anniversary of an event singular in the history of civilization; a day of reason; of the clear light; of that which makes us better than a ...

Your picture smiles as first it sm… The ring you gave is still the sam… Your letter tells, O changing chi… No tidings since it came. Give me an amulet

The south—wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power,

What care I, so they stand the sa… Things of the heavenly mind,— How long the power to give them fa… Tarries yet behind? Thus far to—day your favors reach,

The rhyme of the poet Modulates the king’s affairs, Balance—loving nature Made all things in pairs. To every foot its antipode,

Thee, dear friend, a brother sooth… Not with flatteries, but truths, Which tarnish not, but purify To light which dims the morning’s… I have come from the spring—woods,

The green grass is growing, The morning wind is in it, ‘Tis a tune worth the knowing, Though it change every minute. ’Tis a tune of the spring,

Set not thy foot on graves; Hear what wine and roses say; The mountain chase, the summer wav… The crowded town, thy feet may wel… Set not thy foot on graves;

Good Heart, that ownest all! I ask a modest boon and small: Not of lands and towns the gift,— Too large a load for me to lift,— But for one proper creature,