Poems by George Pope Morris - novelonlinefull.com
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The holiest spot a smiling sun E'er shed his genial rays upon, Is that which gave a Washington The drooping world to cheer!
Sound the clarion-peals of fame!
Ye who bear Columbia's name!-- With existence freedom came-- It is man's birthright here!
Heirs of an immortal sire, Let his deeds your hearts inspire; Weave the strain and wake the lyre Where your proud altars stand!
Hail with pride and loud harrahs, Streaming from a thousand spars, Freedom's rainbow-flag of stars-- The symbol of our land!
I Love Thee Still.
I never have been false to thee!-- The heart I gave thee still is thine; Though thou hast been untrue to me, And I no more may call thee mine!
I've loved, as woman ever loves, With constant soul in good or ill: Thou'st proved as man too often proves, A rover--but I love thee still!
Yet think not that my spirit stoops To bind thee captive in my train!-- Love's not a flower at sunset droops, But smiles when comes her G.o.d again!
Thy words, which fall unheeded now, Could once my heart-strings madly thrill!
Love a golden chain and burning vow Are broken--but I love thee still!
Once what a heaven of bliss was ours, When love dispelled the clouds of care, And time went by with birds and flowers, While song and incense filled the air!
The past is mine--the present thine-- Should thoughts of me thy future fill, Think what a destiny is mine, To lose--but love thee, false one, still!
Look From Thy Lattice, Love.
Look from thy lattice, love-- Listen to me!
The cool, balmy breeze Is abroad on the sea!
The moon, like a queen, Roams her realms above, And naught is awake But the spirit of love.
Ere morn's golden light Tips the hills with its ray, Away o'er the waters-- Away and away!
Then look from thy lattice, love-- Listen to me.
While the moon lights the sky, And the breeze curls the sea!
Look from thy lattice, love-- Listen to me!
In the voyage of life, Love our pilot will be!
He'll sit at the helm Wherever we rove, And steer by the load-star He kindled above!
His gem-girdled shallop Will cut the bright spray, Or skim, like a bird, O'er the waters away!
Then look from thy lattice, love-- Listen to me, While the moon lights the sky, And the breeze curls the sea!
She Loved Him.
She loved him--but she heeded not-- Her heart had only room for pride: All other feelings were forgot, When she became another's bride.
As from a dream she then awoke, To realize her lonely state, And own it was the vow she broke That made her drear and desolate!
She loved him--but the sland'rer came, With words of hate that all believed; A stain thus rested on his name-- But he was wronged and she deceived; Ah! rash the act that gave her hand, That drove her lover from her side-- Who hied him to a distant land, Where, battling for a name, he died!
She loved him--and his memory now Was treasured from the world apart: The calm of thought was on her brow, The seeds of death were in her heart.
For all the world that thing forlorn I would not, could not be, and live-- That casket with its jewel gone, A bride who has no heart to give!
The Suitors.
Wealth sought the bower of Beauty, Dressed like a modern beau: Just then Love, Health, and Duty Took up their hats to go.
Wealth such a cordial welcome met, As made the others grieve; So Duty shunned the gay coquette, Love, pouting, took French leave-- He did!
Love, pouting, took French leave!
Old Time, the friend of Duty, Next called to see the fair; He laid his hand on Beauty, And left her in despair Wealth vanished!--Last went rosy Health-- And she was doomed to prove That those who Duty slight for Wealth, Can never hope for Love!
Ah, no!
Can never hope for Love!
St. Agnes' Shrine.
While before St. Agnes' shrine Knelt a true knight's lady-love, From the wars of Palestine Came a gentle carrier-dove.
Round his neck a Silken string Fastened words the warrior writ: At her call he stooped his wing, And upon her finger lit.
She, like one enchanted, pored O'er the contents of the scroll-- For that lady loved her lord With a pure, devoted soul.
To her heart her dove she drew, While she traced the burning line; Then away his minion flew Back to sainted Palestine.
To and fro, from hand to hand Came and went a carrier-dove, Till throughout the Holy Land War resigned his sword to Love.
Swift her dove, on wings of light, Brought the news from Palestine, And the lady her true knight Wedded at St. Agnes' shrine.
