Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems

SLOW toiling upward from' the misty vale,
I leave the bright enamelled zones below;
No more for me their beauteous bloom shall glow,
...

OLD Rip Van Winkle had a grandson, Rip,
Of the paternal block a genuine chip,—­
A lazy, sleepy, curious kind of chap;
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READER--gentle--if so be
Such still live, and live for me,
Will it please you to be told
What my tenscore pages hold?
...

I BELIEVE that the copies of verses I've spun,
Like Scheherezade's tales, are a thousand and one;
...

WELCOME to the day returning,
Dearer still as ages flow,
...

FAST as the rolling seasons bring
The hour of fate to those we love,
Each pearl that leaves the broken string
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ERE yet the warning chimes of midnight sound,
Set back the flaming index of the year,
Track the swift-shifting seasons in their round
Through fivescore circles of the swinging sphere!
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FROM this fair home behold on either side
The restful mountains or the restless sea
So the warm sheltering walls of life divide
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BROTHERS, whom we may not reach
Through the veil of alien speech,
Welcome! welcome! eyes can tell
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OH! I did love her dearly,
And gave her toys and rings,
And I thought she meant sincerely,
When she took my pretty things.
...