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A Boston Ballad

© Walt Whitman

Clear the way there, Jonathan!
Way for the President's marshal! Way for the government cannon!
Way for the Federal foot and dragoons-and the apparitions copiously
tumbling.

The World's Wanderers

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I.
Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of light
Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
In what cavern of the night
Will thy pinions close now?

She Has Made Me Wayside Posies

Oh blossoms of the paths she loves to tread,
Some grace of her is in all thoughts you bear:
For in my memories of your homes that were
The old sweet loneliness they kept is fled,
And would I think it back I find instead
A presence of my darling mingling there.

To John Johnson, On His Presenting Me With An Antique Bust Of Homer

© William Cowper

Kinsman beloved, and as a son by me!
When I behold this fruit of thy regard,
The sculptured form of my old favourite bard,
I reverence feel for him, and love for thee.

Preexistence

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

WHILE sauntering through the crowded street,
Some half-remembered face I meet,
Albeit upon no mortal shore
That face, methinks, hath smiled before.

Facing West From California's Shores

© Walt Whitman

FACING west, from California's shores,

Inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound,

Hymn To Mercury

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF HOMER.
I.
Sing, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove,
The Herald-child, king of Arcadia

Westward

© Robert Laurence Binyon

I found my Love among the fern. She slept.
My shadow stole across her, as I stept
More lightly and slowly, seeing her pillowed so
In the short--turfed and shelving green hollow

Artemis To Actaeon

© Edith Wharton

And this was thine: to lose thyself in me,
Relive in my renewal, and become
The light of other lives, a quenchless torch
Passed on from hand to hand, till men are dust
And the last garland withers from my shrine.

Andy McElroe

© William Percy French

My brother Andy said, that for a soldier he would go,

So great excitement came upon the house of McElroe.

The Farmer's Boy - Spring

© Robert Bloomfield

Down, indignation! hence, ideas foul!
Away the shocking image from my soul!
Let kindlier visitants attend my way,
Beneath approaching _Summer's_ fervid ray;
Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy,
Whilst the sweet theme is _universal joy_.

Sea-Shore Memories

© Walt Whitman

Shine! shine! shine!
Pour down your warmth, great Sun!
While we bask-we two together.

Baloo Loo For Jenny

Sing baloo loo for Jenny
And where is she gone?
Away to spy her mother's land,
Riding all alone.

Queen Of Sheba

© John Newton

From Sheba a distant report

Of Solomon's glory and fame,

Late Spring

The moon drained white by day

lifts from the hill

View From The Top Of Black Comb

THIS Height a ministering Angel might select:
For from the summit of BLACK COMB (dread name
Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplest range
Of unobstructed prospect may be seen

Homer's Battle Of The Frogs And Mice. Book II

When rosy-finger'd Morn had ting'd the Clouds,
Around their Monarch-Mouse the Nation crouds,
Slow rose the Monarch, heav'd his anxious Breast,
And thus, the Council fill'd with Rage, addrest.