Oliver Wendell Holmes
Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems
|322.||On The Death Of President Garfield||4/6/2010|
|324.||The Height Of The Ridiculous||12/31/2002|
|326.||The Last Leaf||12/31/2002|
|327.||The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay": A Logical Story||1/13/2003|
|328.||The Flower Of Liberty||12/31/2002|
|329.||The Chambered Nautilus||12/31/2002|
|330.||A Farewell To Agassiz||12/31/2002|
|331.||The Iron Gate||12/31/2002|
|332.||A Parody On “a Psalm Of Life”||5/24/2003|
|335.||Sun And Shadow||12/31/2002|
|336.||A Familiar Letter||12/31/2002|
A Familiar Letter
YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying;
Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold?
I'll show you that rhyming's as easy as lying,
If you'll listen to me while the art I unfold.
Here's a book full of words; one can choose as he fancies,
As a painter his tint, as a workman his tool;
Just think! all the poems and plays and romances
Were drawn out of this, like the fish from a pool!
You can wander at will through its syllabled mazes,
And take all you want, not a copper they cost,--
The Opening Of The Piano
IN the little southern parlor of tbe house you may have seen
With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green,
At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right,
Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night!
Ah me! how I remember the evening when it came!
What a cry of eager voices, what a group of cheeks in flame,
When the wondrous box was opened that had come from over seas,
With its smell of mastic-varnish and i