Poems

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James R. Osgood, 1875 - 152 頁

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第 79 頁 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
第 33 頁 - The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted The ruddy tints of health On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted In the fierce race for wealth ; Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure A hoarded volume drew, And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure To hear the tale anew. And then, while round them shadows gathered faster, And as the firelight fell, He read aloud the book wherein the Master Had writ of "Little Nell.
第 34 頁 - From out the gusty pine. Lost is that camp, and wasted all its fire; And he who wrought that spell? — Ah, towering pine and stately Kentish spire, Ye have one tale to tell! Lost is that camp! but let its fragrant story Blend with the breath that thrills With hop-vines' incense all the pensive glory That fills the Kentish hills.
第 131 頁 - Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum. " Let me of my heart take counsel : War is not of life the sum ; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days shall come ? " But the drum Echoed, " Come ! Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemnsounding drum.
第 87 頁 - Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order — when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
第 133 頁 - Come ! You must do the sum to prove it," said the Yankee answering drum. " What if, 'mid the cannons' thunder, Whistling shot and bursting bomb, When my brothers fall around me, Should my heart grow cold and numb ? " But the drum Answered, " Come ! Better there in death united, than in life a recreant. — Come ! " Thus they answered, — hoping, fearing, Some in faith, and doubting some, Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming, Said, " My chosen people, come ! " Then the drum, Lo ! was dumb, For the great...
第 30 頁 - Well, well, it's all past ; yet it's funny To think, as I stood in the glare Of fashion and beauty and money, That I should be thinking, right there, Of some one who breasted high water, And swam the North Fork, and all that, Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, The Lily of Poverty Flat. But goodness! what nonsense I'm writing! (Mamma says my taste still is low,) Instead of my triumphs reciting, I'm spooning on Joseph,— heigh-ho ! And I'm to be "finished" by travel, — Whatever's the meaning...
第 146 頁 - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb; And I said — "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
第 94 頁 - How do you think the man was dressed? He wore an ancient, long buff vest, Yellow as saffron,— but his best; And buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, — size of a dollar, — With tails that the country-folk called "swaller.
第 60 頁 - And right on the top of his trouble kem his wife and five kids from the States. It was rough, mighty rough ; But the boys they stood by, And they brought him the stuff For a house, on the sly ; And the old woman, — well, she did washing, and took on when no one was nigh. But this yer luck...

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