Poems 1 |
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Page 1
... And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his, cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knif e of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town.
... And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his, cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knif e of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town.
Page 11
I might have liked her judgment well, But, as she spoke, she rung the bell, And all her girls, nor small nor few, Came marching in, — their eyes were blue. I asked a maiden ; back she flung The locks that round her forehead hung, ...
I might have liked her judgment well, But, as she spoke, she rung the bell, And all her girls, nor small nor few, Came marching in, — their eyes were blue. I asked a maiden ; back she flung The locks that round her forehead hung, ...
Page 16
Nurse o'er our cradles screameth lullaby, And friends in boots tramp round us as we die, Snuffling aloud. At morning's call The small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun, And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one, Give answer all.
Nurse o'er our cradles screameth lullaby, And friends in boots tramp round us as we die, Snuffling aloud. At morning's call The small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun, And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one, Give answer all.
Page 27
But hark ! the air again is still, The music all is ground, And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound ; It cannot be, — it is, — it is, — A hat is going round ! No ! Pay the dentist when he leaves A fracture in your ...
But hark ! the air again is still, The music all is ground, And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound ; It cannot be, — it is, — it is, — A hat is going round ! No ! Pay the dentist when he leaves A fracture in your ...
Page 28
Then tread away, my gallant boys, And make the axle fly ; Why should not wheels go round about, Like planets in the sky ? Wake up, wake up, my duck-legged man, And stir your solid pegs ! Arouse, arouse, my gawky friend, And shake your ...
Then tread away, my gallant boys, And make the axle fly ; Why should not wheels go round about, Like planets in the sky ? Wake up, wake up, my duck-legged man, And stir your solid pegs ! Arouse, arouse, my gawky friend, And shake your ...
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Contents
LXXXIII | 262 |
LXXXIV | 267 |
LXXXV | 269 |
LXXXVI | 271 |
LXXXVII | 273 |
LXXXVIII | 276 |
LXXXIX | 278 |
XC | 281 |
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XX | 60 |
XXI | 65 |
XXII | 67 |
XXIII | 69 |
XXIV | 73 |
XXV | 75 |
XXVI | 77 |
XXVII | 78 |
XXVIII | 81 |
XXIX | 82 |
XXX | 84 |
XXXI | 89 |
XXXII | 93 |
XXXIII | 101 |
XXXIV | 103 |
XXXV | 105 |
XXXVI | 106 |
XXXVII | 107 |
XXXVIII | 134 |
XXXIX | 143 |
XL | 147 |
XLI | 148 |
XLII | 152 |
XLIII | 154 |
XLIV | 158 |
XLV | 159 |
XLVI | 170 |
XLVII | 171 |
XLVIII | 195 |
XLIX | 197 |
L | 199 |
LI | 202 |
LII | 204 |
LIII | 205 |
LIV | 207 |
LV | 208 |
LVI | 209 |
LVII | 213 |
LVIII | 217 |
LIX | 219 |
LX | 220 |
LXI | 224 |
LXII | 226 |
LXIII | 227 |
LXIV | 229 |
LXV | 231 |
LXVI | 232 |
LXVII | 237 |
LXVIII | 239 |
LXIX | 240 |
LXX | 242 |
LXXI | 244 |
LXXII | 247 |
LXXIII | 248 |
LXXIV | 249 |
LXXV | 250 |
LXXVI | 252 |
LXXVII | 254 |
LXXVIII | 256 |
LXXIX | 257 |
LXXX | 258 |
LXXXI | 260 |
LXXXII | 261 |
XCI | 282 |
XCII | 284 |
XCIII | 287 |
XCIV | 289 |
XCV | 292 |
XCVI | 293 |
XCVII | 295 |
XCVIII | 296 |
XCIX | 299 |
C | 301 |
CI | 303 |
CII | 305 |
CIII | 307 |
CIV | 309 |
CV | 313 |
CVI | 315 |
CVII | 318 |
CVIII | 319 |
CIX | 321 |
CX | 322 |
CXI | 325 |
CXII | 328 |
CXIII | 332 |
CXIV | 335 |
CXV | 336 |
CXVI | 341 |
CXVII | 344 |
CXVIII | 347 |
CXIX | 349 |
CXX | 350 |
CXXI | 353 |
CXXII | 356 |
CXXIII | 359 |
CXXIV | 364 |
CXXV | 369 |
CXXVI | 373 |
CXXVII | 375 |
CXXVIII | 377 |
CXXIX | 381 |
CXXX | 383 |
CXXXI | 384 |
CXXXII | 386 |
CXXXIII | 387 |
CXXXIV | 389 |
CXXXV | 390 |
CXXXVI | 393 |
CXXXVII | 394 |
CXXXVIII | 395 |
CXXXIX | 398 |
CXL | 400 |
CXLI | 401 |
CXLII | 404 |
CXLIII | 407 |
CXLIV | 408 |
CXLV | 409 |
CXLVI | 412 |
CXLVII | 414 |
CXLVIII | 416 |
CXLIX | 417 |
CL | 421 |
CLI | 427 |
CLII | 428 |
CLIII | 430 |
CLV | 431 |
CLVI | 433 |
CLVII | 435 |
CLVIII | 437 |
CLIX | 438 |
CLX | 440 |
CLXI | 442 |
CLXII | 445 |
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Popular passages
Page 2 - The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
Page 1 - I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town.
Bibliographic information
| Title | Poems 1 The Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes |
| Author | Oliver Wendell Holmes |
| Publisher | Reprint Services Corporation, 2007 |
| ISBN | 0781213916, 9780781213912 |
| Length | 474 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |