John Hamilton Reynolds

It is the precious province of true thought-- Of the divine creations of the mind-- To live unwearied in a heart overwrought By busy intercourse with town--Mankind:
Poor merchant I
whom the dull world's trade-wind Blows ever onward on a ...

Sorrow hath made thine eyes more dark and keen,
And set a whiter hue upon thy cheeks,
And round thy pressèd lips drawn anguish-streaks,
And made thy forehead fearfully serene

The trees in Sherwood forest are old and good,--The grass beneath them now is dimly green;
Are they deserted all
Is no young
With loose-slung bugle met within the wood:

With coat of Lincoln green and mantle too,
And horn of ivory mouth, and buckle bright,
And arrows wing'd with peacock-feathers light,
And trusty bow well gather'd of the yew,--Stands Robin Hood: -- and near, with eyes of

Robin the outlaw
Is there not a
Of freedom in the name
-- It tells the story Of clenched oaks, with branches bow'd and hoary,

Sweet poets of the gentle antique line,
That made the hue of beauty all eterne;
And gave earth's melodies a silver turn,--Where did you steal your art so right divine
--Sweetly ye memoried every golden

Yet that have hearts vexed with unquiet thought Of worldly grievance, and of lost delight;
Oh
turn to Spenser's Faerie Tale,--so fraught With all that's mild, and beautiful, and bright,-- There revel in the fancies he hath wroght,-- Fanc...