#Americans
The sun goes down, and with him ta… The coarseness of my por attire; The fair moon mounts, and aye the… Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher. Pale Northern girls! you scorn ou…
I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco—leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth—poles to the Line, All between that works or grows, Every thing is kin of mine.
Who gave thee, O Beauty, The keys of this breast,— Too credulous lover Of blest and unblest? Say, when in lapsed ages
OUR eyeless bark sails free, Though with boom and spar Andes, Alp, or Himmalee Strikes never moon or star.
TO clothe the fiery thought In simple words succeeds, For still the craft of genius is To mask a king in weeds.
Hast thou named all the birds with… Loved the wood-rose, and left it o… At rich men’s tables eaten bread a… Unarmed, faced danger with a heart… And loved so well a high behavior,
Gold and iron are good To buy iron and gold; All earth’s fleece and food For their like are sold. Hinted Merlin wise,
Think me not unkind and rude, That I walk alone in grove and gl… I go to the god of the wood To fetch his word to men. Tax not my sloth that I
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;…
The sinful painter drapes his godd… Because she still is naked, being… The godlike sculptor will not so d… Beauty, which bones and flesh enou…
This is he, who, felled by foes, Sprung harmless up, refreshed by b… He to captivity was sold, But him no prison—bars would hold: Though they sealed him in a rock,
Who shall tell what did befall, Far away in time, when once, Over the lifeless ball, Hung idle stars and suns? What god the element obeyed?
The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel; And the former called the latter “… Bun replied, “You are doubtless very big;
BRING me wine, but wine which ne… In the belly of the grape, Or grew on vine whose tap—roots, r… Under the Andes to the Cape, Suffer’d no savour of the earth to…
Though loath to grieve The evil time’s sole patriot, I cannot leave My honied thought For the priest’s cant,
