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    Poems
    Poems
    Poems
    Ebook174 pages1 hour

    Poems

    By Samuel G. (Samuel Griswold) Goodrich

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Poems

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      Book preview

      Poems - Samuel G. (Samuel Griswold) Goodrich

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Sam G. Goodrich

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Poems

      Author: Sam G. Goodrich

      Release Date: March 13, 2004 [EBook #11558]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***

      Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced from page scans

      provided by Internet Archive Children's Library and University of

      Florida.

      POEMS

      BY S.G. GOODRICH

      NEW-YORK:

      G.P. PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY

      1851.

      Henry J. Crate, Pressman.

      CONTENTS

      Birth-night of the Humming Birds

      Lake Superior

      The Leaf

      The Bubble Chase

      A Dream of Life

      The Surf Sprite

      The First Frost of Autumn

      The Sea-Bird

      The King of Terrors

      The Rainbow Bridge

      The Rival Bubbles

      Good Night

      The Mississippi

      The Two Windmills

      The Ideal and the Actual

      The Golden Dream

      The Gipsy's Prayer

      Inscription for a Rural Cemetery

      Song: The Robin

      Thoughts at Sea

      A Burial at Sea

      The Dream of Youth

      Remembrance

      The Old Oak

      To a Wild Violet, in March

      Illusions

      The Rose: to Ellen

      The Maniac

      The Two Shades

      The Teacher's Lesson

      Perennials

      To a Lady who had been Singing

      The Broken Heart

      The Star Of The West

      The Outcast

      Good and Evil

      The Mountain Stream

      Birth-night of the Humming Birds

      The Departure of the Fairies

      I.

      I'll tell you a Fairy Tale that's new:

      How the merry Elves o'er the ocean flew

      From the Emerald isle to this far-off shore,

      As they were wont in the days of yore;

      And played their pranks one moonlit night,

      Where the zephyrs alone could see the sight.

      II.

      Ere the Old world yet had found the New,

      The fairies oft in their frolics flew

      To the fragrant isles of the Caribbee—

      Bright bosom-gems of a golden sea.

      Too dark was the film of the Indian's eye,

      These gossamer sprites to suspect or spy,—

      So they danced 'mid the spicy groves unseen,

      And mad were their merry pranks, I ween;

      For the fairies, like other discreet little elves,

      Are freest and fondest when all by themselves.

      No thought had they that in after time,

      The Muse would echo their deeds in rhyme;

      So gayly doffing light stocking and shoe,

      They tripped o'er the meadow all dappled in dew.

      III.

      I could tell, if I would, some right merry tales,

      Of unslippered fairies that danced in the vales—

      But the lovers of scandal I leave in the lurch—

      And, beside, these elves don't belong to the church.

      If they danced—be it known—'twas not in the clime

      Of your Mathers and Hookers, where laughter was crime;

      Where sentinel virtue kept guard o'er the lip,

      Though witchcraft stole into the heart by a slip!

      Oh no! 'twas the land of the fruit and the flower—

      Where Summer and Spring both dwelt in one bower—

      Where one hung the citron, all ripe from the bough,

      And the other with blossoms encircled her brow;

      Where the mountains embosomed rich tissues of gold,

      And the rivers o'er rubies and emeralds rolled.

      It was there, where the seasons came only to bless,

      And the fashions of Eden still lingered, in dress,

      That these gay little fairies were wont, as I say,

      To steal in their merriest gambols away.

      But dropping the curtain o'er frolic and fun,

      Too good to be told, or too bad to be done,

      I give you a legend from Fancy's own sketch,

      Though I warn you he's given to fibbing—the wretch!

      Yet I learn by the legends of breezes and brooks,

      'Tis as true as the fairy tales told in the books.

      IV.

      One night, when the moon shone fair on the main,

      Choice spirits were gathered from meadow and plain—

      And lightly embarking from Erin's bold cliffs,

      They slid o'er the wave in their moonbeam skiffs.

      A ray for a rudder—a thought for a sail—

      Swift, swift was each bark as the wing of the gale.

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