#AmericanWriters
“Such a queer dream, King-Post, I never had. You know the old man’s ivory leg, well I dreamed he kicked me with it; and when I tried to kick back, upon my soul, my little man, I kicked ...
(Indicative of the Passion of the… on the 15th Day of April, 1865) * * * Good Friday was the day Of the prodigy and crime,
The ribs and terrors in the whale, Arched over me a dismal gloom, While all God’s sun-lit waves rol… And left me deepening down to doom… I saw the opening maw of hell,
Hail! voyagers, hail! Whence e’er ye come, where’er ye r… No calmer strand, No sweeter land, Will e’er ye view, than the Land…
From ‘The Saya-y-Manto.’ While now the Pole Star sinks fro… The Southern Cross it climbs the… But losing thee, my love, my light… O bride but for one bridal night,
When tempest winnowed grain from b… And men were looking for a man, Authority called you to the van, McClellan: Along the line the plaudit ran,
By chapel bare, with walls sea-bea… The lichened urns in wilds are los… About a carved memorial stone That shows, decayed and coral-moss… A form recumbent, swords at feet,
Ye elms that wave on Malvern Hill In prime of morn and May, Recall ye how McClellan’s men Here stood at bay? While deep within yon forest dim
In this same New Bedford there stands a Whaleman’s Chapel, and few are the moody fishermen, shortly bound for the Indian Ocean or Pacific, who fail to make a Sunday visit to the spot. I...
Farewell and adieu to you noble he… Farewell and adieu to you ladies o… For I’ve received orders for to s… Deadman, But hope with the grand fleet to s…
Persian, you rise Aflame from climes of sacrifice Where adulators sue, And prostrate man, with brow abase… Adheres to rites whose tenor trace…
In shards the sylvan vases lie, Their links of dance undone, And brambles wither by thy brim, Choked fountain of the sun! The spider in the laurel spins,
1876 Sunning ourselves in October on a… Balmy as spring, though the year w… I lading my pipe, she stirring her… My old woman she says to me,
_From ‘Rammon.’_ Through storms you reach them and… storms are free. Afar descried, the foremost drear… But, nearer, green; and, on the ma…
Children of my happier prime, When One yet lived with me, and t… Her rainbow over life and time, Even Hope, my bride, and mother t… O, nurtured in sweet pastoral air,