John Gardiner Calkins Brainard Poems

HISPANIA! O, Hispania! once my home —
How hath thy fall degraded every son
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Though now we are sluggish and lazy on shore,
Yet soon shall we be where the wild waters roar;
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On the deep is the mariner's danger,
On the deep is the mariner's death;
Who, to fear of the tempest a stranger,
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O! HOW calm and how beautiful—look at the night!
The planets are wheeling in pathways of light;
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The lines below are founded on a legend, that is as well authenticated as any superstition of the kind; and as current
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WHO bleeds in the desert, faint, naked, and torn,
Left lonely to wait for the coming of morn?
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'Arma virumque cano.'
THE sun looked bright upon the morning tide:
Light played the breeze along the whispering shore,
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'T IS morning on the sunny sod,
Where lingering footsteps late have trod;
'T is morning on the melting snow,
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'How slow we drive! — but yet the hour will come,
When friends shall greet me with affection's kiss;
When, seated at my boyhood's happy home,
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It has a strange wild note — that Mocking-bird,
I've heard him whistle to the passer by,
And scold like any parrot. Now his note
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