The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes Part 33

THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA A NIGHTMARE DREAM BY DAYLIGHT

Do you know the Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea?

Have you met with that dreadful old man?

If you have n't been caught, you will be, you will be; For catch you he must and he can.

He does n't hold on by your throat, by your throat, As of old in the terrible tale; But he grapples you tight by the coat, by the coat, Till its b.u.t.tons and b.u.t.ton-holes fail.

There's the charm of a snake in his eye, in his eye, And a polypus-grip in his hands; You cannot go back, nor get by, nor get by, If you look at the spot where he stands.

Oh, you're grabbed! See his claw on your sleeve, on your sleeve!

It is Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea!

You're a Christian, no doubt you believe, you believe You're a martyr, whatever you be!

Is the breakfast-hour past? They must wait, they must wait, While the coffee boils sullenly down, While the Johnny-cake burns on the grate, on the grate, And the toast is done frightfully brown.

Yes, your dinner will keep; let it cool, let it cool, And Madam may worry and fret, And children half-starved go to school, go to school; He can't think of sparing you yet.

Hark! the bell for the train! "Come along! Come along!

For there is n't a second to lose."

"ALL ABOARD!" (He holds on.) "Fsht I ding-dong! Fsht! ding-dong!"-- You can follow on foot, if you choose.

There's a maid with a cheek like a peach, like a peach, That is waiting for you in the church;-- But he clings to your side like a leech, like a leech, And you leave your lost bride in the lurch.

There's a babe in a fit,--hurry quick! hurry quick!

To the doctor's as fast as you can!

The baby is off, while you stick, while you stick, In the grip of the dreadful Old Man!

I have looked on the face of the Bore, of the Bore; The voice of the Simple I know; I have welcomed the Flat at my door, at my door; I have sat by the side of the Slow;

I have walked like a lamb by the friend, by the friend, That stuck to my skirts like a bur; I have borne the stale talk without end, without end, Of the sitter whom nothing could stir.

But my hamstrings grow loose, and I shake, and I shake, At the sight of the dreadful Old Man; Yea, I quiver and quake, and I take, and I take, To my legs with what vigor I can!

Oh the dreadful Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea He's come back like the Wandering Jew!

He has had his cold claw upon me, upon me,-- And be sure that he 'll have it on you!

INTERNATIONAL ODE

OUR FATHERS' LAND

G.o.d bless our Fathers' Land!

Keep her in heart and hand One with our own!

From all her foes defend, Be her brave People's Friend, On all her realms descend, Protect her Throne!

Father, with loving care Guard Thou her kingdom's Heir, Guide all his ways Thine arm his shelter be, From him by land and sea Bid storm and danger flee, Prolong his days!

Lord, let War's tempest cease, Fold the whole Earth in peace Under thy wings Make all thy nations one, All hearts beneath the sun, Till Thou shalt reign alone, Great King of kings!

A SENTIMENT OFFERED AT THE DINNER TO H. I. H.

THE PRINCE NAPOLEON, AT THE REVERE HOUSE, SEPTEMBER 25,1861

THE land of sunshine and of song!

Her name your hearts divine; To her the banquet's vows belong Whose b.r.e.a.s.t.s have poured its wine; Our trusty friend, our true ally Through varied change and chance So, fill your flashing goblets high,-- I give you, VIVE LA FRANCE!

Above our hosts in triple folds The selfsame colors spread, Where Valor's faithful arm upholds The blue, the white, the red; Alike each nation's glittering crest Reflects the morning's glance,-- Twin eagles, soaring east and west Once more, then, VIVE LA FRANCE!

Sister in trial! who shall count Thy generous friendship's claim, Whose blood ran mingling in the fount That gave our land its name, Till Yorktown saw in blended line Our conquering arms advance, And victory's double garlands twine Our banners? VIVE LA FRANCE!

O land of heroes! in our need One gift from Heaven we crave To stanch these wounds that vainly bleed,-- The wise to lead the brave!

Call back one Captain of thy past From glory's marble trance, Whose name shall be a bugle-blast To rouse us! VIVE LA FRANCE!

Pluck Conde's baton from the trench, Wake up stout Charles Martel, Or find some woman's hand to clench The sword of La Pucelle!

Give us one hour of old Turenne,-- One lift of Bayard's lance,-- Nay, call Marengo's Chief again To lead us! VIVE LA FRANCE!

Ah, hush! our welcome Guest shall hear But sounds of peace and joy; No angry echo vex thine ear, Fair Daughter of Savoy Once more! the land of arms and arts, Of glory, grace, romance; Her love lies warm in all our hearts G.o.d bless her! VIVE LA FRANCE!

BROTHER JONATHAN'S LAMENT FOR SISTER CAROLINE

SHE has gone,--she has left us in pa.s.sion 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, Caroline, child of the sun, We can never forget that our hearts have been one,-- Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name, From the fountain of blood with the finger of flame!

You were always too ready to fire at a touch; But we said, "She is hasty,--she does not mean much."

We have scowled, when you uttered some turbulent threat; But Friendship still whispered, "Forgive and forget!"

Has our love all died out? Have its altars grown cold?

Has the curse come at last which the fathers foretold?

Then Nature must teach us the strength of the chain That her petulant children would sever in vain.

They may fight till the buzzards are gorged with their spoil, Till the harvest grows black as it rots in the soil, Till the wolves and the catamounts troop from their eaves, And the shark tracks the pirate, the lord of the waves:

In vain is the strife! When its fury is past, Their fortunes must flow in one channel at last, As the torrents that rush from the mountains of snow Roll mingled in peace through the valleys below.