Smile poems/ page 10 of 369 /
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,That with its wearisome but needful lengthBestrides the wintry flood, in which the moonSees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,He comes, the herald of a noisy world,With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;News from all nations lumb'ring at his back
Did you ever see two Yankees part upon a foreign shoreWhen the good ship's just about to start for Old New York once more?With a tear-dimmed eye they say goodbye, they're friends without a doubt;When the man on the pier shouts, "Let them clear!", as the ship strikes out
Dearest, and yet more dear than I can tell In these poor halting rhymes, when, word by word, You spell the passion that your beauty stirredSwiftly to flame, and holds me as a spell,You will not think he writeth "ill" or "well", Nor question make of the fond truths averred, But Love, of that, by Love's self charactered, A perfect understanding shall impel
I remember, I remember, The house where I was wed,And the little room from which, that night, My smiling bride was led;She didn't come a wink too soon, Nor make too long a stay;But now I often wish her folks Had kept the girl away!
I remember, I remember, Her dresses, red and white
When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass,And the meteor on the grave, And the wisp on the morass;When the falling stars are shooting,And the answer'd owls are hooting,And the silent leaves are stillIn the shadow of the hill,Shall my soul be upon thine,With a power and with a sign
I A palace and a prison on each hand: I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles,Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles!
II Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers: And such she was; her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers