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WE count the broken lyres that rest Where the sweet wailing singers slumber, But o'er their silent sister's breast The wild-flowers who will stoop to number
A few can touch the magic string, And noisy Fame is proud to win them:— Alas for thos...
A few can touch the magic string, And noisy Fame is proud to win them:— Alas for thos...

HE has gone,— she has left us in passion and pride,— Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side
She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, And turned on her brother the face of a foe
Oh,
Caroline,
She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, And turned on her brother the face of a foe
Oh,
Caroline,

ST of my Sunday friends, The patient Organ-blower bends; I see his figure sink and rise, (Forgive me,
Heaven, my wandering eyes
) A moment lost, the next half seen, His head above the scanty screen, Still measuring out his deep salaams T...
Heaven, my wandering eyes
) A moment lost, the next half seen, His head above the scanty screen, Still measuring out his deep salaams T...

OT in the world of light alone, Where God has built his blazing throne, Nor yet alone in earth below, With belted seas that come and go, And endless isles of sunlit green, Is all thy Maker's glory seen: Look in upon thy wondrous frame,— Eternal wi...

My aunt
my dear unmarried aunt
Long years have o’er her flown;
Yet still she strains the aching
my dear unmarried aunt
Long years have o’er her flown;
Yet still she strains the aching

OH for one hour of youthful joy
Give back my twentieth spring
I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king
Off with the spoils of wrinkled age
Give back my twentieth spring
I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king
Off with the spoils of wrinkled age

Yes, dear departed, cherished days,
Could Memory's hand
Your morning light, your evening rays,
From Time's gray urn once more,
Could Memory's hand
Your morning light, your evening rays,
From Time's gray urn once more,

I'M not a chicken;
I have seen Full many a chill September, And though I was a youngster then, That gale I well remember; The day before, my kite-string snapped, And I, my kite pursuing, The wind whisked off my palm-leaf hat; For me two storm...
I have seen Full many a chill September, And though I was a youngster then, That gale I well remember; The day before, my kite-string snapped, And I, my kite pursuing, The wind whisked off my palm-leaf hat; For me two storm...

ER hands are cold; her face is white; No more her pulses come and go; Her eyes are shut to life and light;— Fold the white vesture, snow on snow, And lay her where the violets blow
But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien...
But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien...

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;


ME, dear old comrade, you and I Will steal an hour from days gone by, The shining days when life was new, And all was bright with morning dew, The lusty days of long ago, When you were Bill and I was Joe
Your name may flaunt a titled trail Pr...
Your name may flaunt a titled trail Pr...

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,—
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
Sails the unshadowed main,—
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings


ER's mother: her age,
I guess, Thirteen summers, or something less; Girlish bust, but womanly air; Smooth, square forehead with uprolled hair; Lips that lover has never kissed; Taper fingers and slender wrist; Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade...
I guess, Thirteen summers, or something less; Girlish bust, but womanly air; Smooth, square forehead with uprolled hair; Lips that lover has never kissed; Taper fingers and slender wrist; Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade...

How the mountains talked together,
Looking down upon the weather,
When they heard our friend had planned
Little trip among the
Looking down upon the weather,
When they heard our friend had planned
Little trip among the

I love all sights of earth and skies, From flowers that glow to stars that shine; The comet and the penny show, All curious things, above, below, Hold each in turn my wandering eyes: I claim the Christian Pagan's line, Humani nihil, — even so, — A...

OT charity we ask,
Nor yet thy gift refuse;
Please thy light fancy with the easy
Only to look and choose
Nor yet thy gift refuse;
Please thy light fancy with the easy
Only to look and choose