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Selections from American poetry, with special reference to Poe, Longfellow, Lowell and Whittier — John Shaqi

Selections from American poetry, with special reference to Poe, Longfellow, Lowell and Whittier

General

Selections from American poetry, with special reference to Poe, Longfellow, Lowell and Whittier

American poetry

Of tempests wouldst thou sing,
                Or tell of battles--make thyself a part
               Of the great tumult; cling
                To the tossed wreck with terror in thy heart;
               Scale, with the assaulting host, the rampart's height,
               And strike and struggle in the thickest fight.

               So shalt thou frame a lay
                That haply may endure from age to age,
               And they who read shall say
                "What witchery hangs upon this poet's page!
               What art is his the written spells to find
               That sway from mood to mood the willing mind!"




ABRAHAM LINCOLN

               Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare,
                Gentle and merciful and just!
               Who, in the fear of God, didst bear
                The sword of power, a nation's trust!

               In sorrow by thy bier we stand,
                Amid the awe that hushes all,
               And speak the anguish of a land
                That shook with horror at thy fall.

               Thy task is done; the bond are free:
                We bear thee to an honored grave
               Whose proudest monument shall be
                The broken fetters of the slave.

               Pure was thy life; its bloody close
                Hath placed thee with the sons of light,
               Among the noble host of those
                Who perished in the cause of Right.




FRANCIS SCOTT KEY




THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

     O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
          What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
     Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
          O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming;
     And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
          Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
     O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
          O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

     On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
          Where the foes haughty host in dread silence reposes,
     What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
          As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
     Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
          In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
     'Tis the star-spangled banner; O long may it wave
          O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!

     And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
          That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
     A home and a country should leave us no more?
          Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
     No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
          From the terror of flight and the gloom of the grave;
     And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
          O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Selections from American poetry, with special reference to Poe, Longfellow, Lowell and Whittier

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