The great are falling from us — to the dust
Our flag droops midway full of many sighs;
A nation's glory and a people's trust
Lie in the ample pall where Webster lies.

The great are falling from us — one by one
As fall the patriarchs of the forest trees,
The winds shall seek them vainly, and the sun
Gaze on each vacant space for centuries.

Lo, Carolina mourns her steadfast pine
Which towered sublimely o'er the Southern realm,
And Ashland hears no more the voice divine
From out the branches of its stately elm: —

A weary, wandering soul am I,
O'erburthened with an earthly weight;
A pilgrim through the world and sky,
Toward the Celestial Gate.

Tell me, ye sweet and sinless flowers,
Who all night gaze upon the skies,
Have ye not in the silent hours
Seen aught of Paradise?

Ye birds, that soar and sing, elate
With joy, that makes your voices strong,
Have ye not at the golden gate
Caught somewhat of your song?

Ye waters, sparkling in the morn,
Ye seas, which glass the starry night,
Have ye not from the imperial bourn

The Lord will come, and not be slow:
His footsteps cannot err.
Before him Righteousness shall go,
His royal harbinger.

Truth from the earth, like to a flower,
Shall bud and blossom then;
And Justice from the heavenly bower
Look down on mortal men.

Rise, Lord, judge thou the earth in might,
This longing earth redress!
For thou art he who shall by right
The nations all possess.

The nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
To bow them low before thee, Lord,
And glorify thy name.

One New Year's eve, in ninety-one or two — I'm not sure when —
(Ah, me! How many New Year's eves have come and gone since then!)
I lived — or died — at Milson's Point, in Campbell Street, I think:
And I was dying there alone that evening for a drink.
The landlady was out to buy our New Year's leg of swine,
The others on their own affairs; and I was in on mine.

I sat alone till half-past eight — alone with thirst and sin —
When one who'd blown across the strait — Fred Broomfield — thundered in.

Ye mighty masters of the song sublime,
Who, phantom-like, with large unwavering eyes,
Stalk down the solemn wilderness of Time,
Reading the mysteries of the future skies;
Oh, scorn not earth because it is not heaven;
Nor shake the dust against us from your feet,
Because we have rejected what was given!
Still let your tongues the wondrous theme repeat!
Though ye be friendless in this solitude,
Quick-winged thoughts, from many an unborn year,
God-sent, shall feed ye with prophetic food,
Like those blest birds which fed the ancient Seir!

The morning comes, but brings no sun;
The sky with storm is overrun;
And here I sit in my room alone,
And feel, as I hear the tempest moan,
Like one who hath lost the last and best,
The dearest dweller from his breast!
For every pleasant sight and sound,
The sorrows of the sky have drowned;
The bell within the neighbouring tower,
Falls blurred and distant through the shower;
Look where I will, hear what I may,
All, all the world seems far away!
The dreary shutters creak and swing,
The windy willows sway and fling

To a neglectful Correspondent in Town.

You give me pause — no Answer yet!
Let's see how long you've been in Debt —
'Tis near two Months — a shameful Date;
But say, why thus reflecting late?
You're like the French, in Treaty wise;
But soon (like them) throw off Disguize;
And break through ev'ry Promise made —
Pray leave to France this shuffling Trade —
The English are of diff'rent Breeding,
Such low Finesse not worth our Heeding.

I N future, treat me with Respect,
And lay aside this cool Neglect;

Asleep the child fell
When night cast its spell;
The angels came near
With laughter and cheer.
Her watch at its waking the mother was keeping:
" How sweet, my dear child, was your smile now while sleeping! "

To God mother went,
From home it was rent;
Asleep the child fell
'Neath tears' troublous spell.
But soon it heard laughter and mother-words tender;
The angels brought dreams full of childhood's rare splendor.

It grew with the years,

It is superficial smartness wins the mob that rules the hour,
And their vulgar, brutal laughter lifts the Nobody to power.
So the “smart” or “clever” verses in the most unjust attack
Bring the mean and wavering “friends” of your opponent to your back.
Leave my enemy and me to fight it out—to make amends—
I have no time for the plaudits of his once admiring friends.

Do you mind the tent and camp-fire in the moonlight by Cape Howe?
Do you ever pause and ponder, “Were we happier then than now?”

I dare never speak up to you,
For you to look down would not do,
But always you are there each day,
And always I wander this way.
Our thoughts go by stealth to make search and renew it,
But neither dares question nor give answer due it;
 If only you knew it!

When constantly I could be found,
You often in pride on me frowned;
But now that I rarely appear,
I see that you wait for me here!
Two eyes, oh, two eyes made a snare and then drew it,
And who would escape must beware, and eschew it!