American Poems

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I

Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! — the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll! — a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river: —
And, Guy De Vere, hast

If I met Charley I probably would have smashed him in his over sized snozz
Like a scene ripped from the reels of Barfly yes indeed we would have bar

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.

there’s

From an address, written for a little boy, the carrier of a village news-paper, Jan. 1, 1822.

Spirit of Poesy! oh, deign to hear
A humble votary’s first and ardent prayer!<br

FROM AN OCCASIONAL POEM, WRITTEN IN DECEMBTER, 1622 .

And on the wave, Columbia’s hardy band,
Who’ve shed such glory round our native land;
Who’ve borne her banner through the storms

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore

Lo! ’t is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play

The smile that illumines the features of Beauty,
When kindled by virtue, alluring appears;
But smiles, tho’ alluring, no magic can borrow
To vie with the softness of Beauty in

The bark is gliding down the bay,
That bears me far from you;
I would not go—yet must not stay;
Adieu, dear girl, adieu!

My country calls—her clarion blew;
She must