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    Poems
    Poems
    Poems
    Ebook160 pages1 hour

    Poems

    By Samuel G. Goodrich

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The following book is a collection of poems written by Samuel Griswold Goodrich. There are 34 poems in this volume of work, including these titles: 'Birth-night of the Humming Birds', 'Lake Superior', 'The Leaf', 'The Bubble Chase', 'A Dream of Life', and 'The Surf Sprite'.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateDec 16, 2019
    ISBN4064066196851
    Poems

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      Book preview

      Poems - Samuel G. Goodrich

      Samuel G. Goodrich

      Poems

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      [email protected]

      EAN 4064066196851

      Table of Contents

      Birth-night of the Humming Birds

      Lake Superior

      The Leaf

      The Bubble Chase

      A Dream of Life

      The Surf Sprite

      The First Frost of Autumn

      The Sea-Bird

      The King of Terrors

      The Rainbow Bridge

      The Rival Bubbles

      Good Night

      The Mississippi

      The Two Windmills

      The Ideal and the Actual

      The Golden Dream

      The Gipsy's Prayer

      Inscription for a Rural Cemetery

      Song: The Robin

      Thoughts at Sea

      A Burial at Sea

      The Dream of Youth

      Remembrance.

      The Old Oak

      To a Wild Violet, in March

      Illusions

      The Rose: to Ellen

      The Maniac

      The Two Shades

      The Teacher's Lesson

      Perennials

      To a Lady who had been Singing

      The Broken Heart

      The Star Of The West

      The Outcast

      Good and Evil

      The Mountain Stream

      Birth-night of the Humming Birds

      Table of Contents

      The Departure of the Fairies

      The Departure of the Fairies

      I.

      I'll tell you a Fairy Tale that's new:

      How the merry Elves o'er the ocean flew

      From the Emerald isle to this far-off shore,

      As they were wont in the days of yore;

      And played their pranks one moonlit night,

      Where the zephyrs alone could see the sight.

      II.

      Ere the Old world yet had found the New,

      The fairies oft in their frolics flew

      To the fragrant isles of the Caribbee—

      Bright bosom-gems of a golden sea.

      Too dark was the film of the Indian's eye,

      These gossamer sprites to suspect or spy,—

      So they danced 'mid the spicy groves unseen,

      And mad were their merry pranks, I ween;

      For the fairies, like other discreet little elves,

      Are freest and fondest when all by themselves.

      No thought had they that in after time,

      The Muse would echo their deeds in rhyme;

      So gayly doffing light stocking and shoe,

      They tripped o'er the meadow all dappled in dew.

      III.

      I could tell, if I would, some right merry tales,

      Of unslippered fairies that danced in the vales—

      But the lovers of scandal I leave in the lurch—

      And, beside, these elves don't belong to the church.

      If they danced—be it known—'twas not in the clime

      Of your Mathers and Hookers, where laughter was crime;

      Where sentinel virtue kept guard o'er the lip,

      Though witchcraft stole into the heart by a slip!

      Oh no! 'twas the land of the fruit and the flower—

      Where Summer and Spring both dwelt in one bower—

      Where one hung the citron, all ripe from the bough,

      And the other with blossoms encircled her brow;

      Where the mountains embosomed rich tissues of gold,

      And the rivers o'er rubies and emeralds rolled.

      It was there, where the seasons came only to bless,

      And the fashions of Eden still lingered, in dress,

      That these gay little fairies were wont, as I say,

      To steal in their merriest gambols away.

      But dropping the curtain o'er frolic and fun,

      Too good to be told, or too bad to be done,

      I give you a legend from Fancy's own sketch,

      Though I warn you he's given to fibbing—the wretch!

      Yet I learn by the legends of breezes and brooks,

      'Tis as true as the fairy tales told in the books.

      IV.

      One night, when the moon shone fair on the main,

      Choice spirits were gathered from meadow and plain—

      And lightly embarking from Erin's bold cliffs,

      They slid o'er the wave in their moonbeam skiffs.

      A ray for a rudder—a thought for a sail—

      Swift, swift was each bark as the wing of the gale.

      V.

      Enough, that at last they came to the Isle,

      Where moonlight and fragrance were rivals the while.

      Not yet had those vessels from Palos been here,

      To turn the bright gem to the blood-mingled tear.

      Oh no! still blissful and peaceful the land,

      And the merry elves flew from the sea to the strand.

      Right happy and joyous seemed now the fond crew,

      As they tripped 'mid the orange groves flashing in dew,

      For they were to hold a revel that night,

      A gay fancy ball, and each to be dight

      In the gem or the flower that fancy might choose,

      From mountain or vale, for its fragrance or hues.

      VI.

      Away sped the maskers like arrows of light

      To gather their gear for the revel bright.

      To the dazzling peaks of far-off Peru,

      In emulous speed some sportively flew,

      And deep in the mine, or 'mid glaciers on high,

      For ruby and sapphire searched heedful and sly.

      For diamonds rare that gleam in the bed

      Of Brazilian streams, some merrily sped,

      While others for topaz and emerald

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