Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems

IT is not what we say or sing,
That keeps our charm so long unbroken,
Though every lightest leaf we bring
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Sweet brothers by the Mother's side, the babes of days gone by,
All nurslings of her Juno breasts whose milk is never dry,
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ANGEL of love, for every grief
Its soothing balm thy mercy brings,
For every pang its healing leaf,
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O EVEN-HANDED Nature! we confess
This life that men so honor, love, and bless
Has filled thine olden measure. Not the less.
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IN narrowest girdle, O reluctant Muse,
In closest frock and Cinderella shoes,
Bound to the foot-lights for thy brief display,
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SIRE, son, and grandson; so the century glides;
Three lives, three strides, three foot-prints in the sand;
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IF sometimes in the dark blue eye,
Or in the deep red wine,
Or soothed by gentlest melody,
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O GOD! in danger's darkest hour,
In battle's deadliest field,
Thy name has been our Nation's tower,
Thy truth her help and shield.
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FLASH out a stream of blood-red wine,
For I would drink to other days,
And brighter shall their memory shine,
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WHEN legislators keep the law,
When banks dispense with bolts and looks,
When berries--whortle, rasp, and straw--
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