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OLD IRONSIDES
Oliver Wendell Holmes
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; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;-- The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more!
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the nood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;-- The harpies of the sh.o.r.e shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
O better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the G.o.d of storms, The lightning and the gale!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has wether'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the sh.o.r.es a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying ma.s.s, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult, O Sh.o.r.es, and ring, O Bells!
But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
LOVE LYRICS
TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS
Richard Lovelace
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such, As you, too, shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honor more.
SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY
George Gordon Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!
A RED, RED ROSE
Robert Burns
O, my luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve is like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie la.s.s, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
And I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve, And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
POEMS OF NATURE
THE GREENWOOD TREE
William Shakespeare
Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat-- Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets-- Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA
