The Culprit Fay: And Other Poems

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G. Dearborn, 1836 - 92 pages
 

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Page 92 - Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Page 90 - When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Page 91 - Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly. The sign of hope and triumph high, When speaks the signal trumpet tone, And the long line comes gleaming on.
Page 12 - They come from beds of lichen green, They creep from the mullein's velvet screen; Some on the backs of beetles fly From the silver tops of moon-touched trees, Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, And rocked about in the evening breeze; Some from the hum-bird's downy nest — They had driven him out by elfin power, And pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast. Had...
Page 10 - And the flood which rolls its milky hue. A river of light on the welkin blue. The moon looks down on old Cro'nest, She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast. And seems his huge gray form to throw In a silver cone on the wave below; His sides are broken by spots of shade, By the walnut...
Page 16 - The stain of thy wing is washed away, But another errand must be done Ere thy crime be lost for aye; Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark, Thou must re-illume its spark. Mount thy steed and spur him high To the heaven's blue canopy ; And when thou seest a shooting star, Follow it fast, and follow it far — The last faint spark of its burning train Shall light the elfin lamp again. Thou...
Page 20 - The quart's long arms are round him rolled, The prickly prong has pierced his skin, And the squab has thrown his javelin, The gritty star has rubbed him raw, And the crab has struck with his giant claw; He howls with rage, and he shrieks with pain, He strikes around, but his blows are vain ; Hopeless is the unequal fight, Fairy!
Page 17 - And turned him round in act to go. The way is long; he cannot fly; His soiled wing has lost its power. And he winds adown the mountain high For many a sore and weary hour. Through dreary beds of tangled fern, Through groves of nightshade dark and dern, Over the grass and through the brake, Where toils the ant and sleeps the snake...
Page 10 - A burnished length of wavy beam In an eel-like, spiral line below; The winds are whist, and the owl is still; The bat in the shelvy rock is hid; And naught is heard on the lonely hill But the cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill Of the gauze-winged katydid...
Page 90 - To hear the tempest trumpings loud And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle-stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory!

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