The Rising Sun
The king of day rides on,
To give the placid morning birth;
On wheels of glory moves his throne,
Whose light adorns the earth.
When once his limpid maid
Has the imperial course begun,
The lark deserts the dusky glade,
And soars to meet the sun.
Up from the orient deep,
Aurora mounts without delay,
With brooms of light the plains to sweep,
And purge the gloom away.
Ye ghostly scenes give way,
Our king is coming now in sight,
Bearing the diadem of day,
Whose crest expels the night.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Heavenly Love
Eternal spring of boundless grace,
It lifts the soul above,
Where God the Son unveils his face,
And shows that Heaven is love.
Love that revolves through endless years--
Love that can never pall;
Love which excludes the gloom of fears,
Love to whom God is all!
Love which can ransom every slave,
And set the pris'ner free;
Gild the dark horrors of the grave,
And still the raging sea.
Let but the partial smile of Heaven
Upon the bosom play,
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Prosperity
Come, thou queen of every creature,
Nature calls thee to her arms ;
Love sits gay on every feature,
Teeming with a thousand charms.
Meet me mid the wreathing bowers,
Greet me in the citron grove,
Where I saw the belle of flowers
Dealing with the blooms of love.
Hark! the lowly dove of Sharon,
Bids thee rise and come away,
From a vale both dry and barren,
Come to one where life is gay.
Come, thou queen of all the forest,
Fair Feronia, mountain glee,
Lovelier than the garden florist,
Or the goddess of the bee.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Woodman And The Money Hunter
Throughout our rambles much we find;
The bee trees burst with honey;
Wild birds we tame of every kind,
At once they seem to be resign'd;
I know but one that lags behind,
There's nothing lags but money.
The woods afford us much supply,
The opossum, coon, and coney;
They all are tame and venture nigh,
Regardless of the public eye,
I know but one among them shy,
There's nothing shy but money.
And she lies in the bankrupt shade;
The cunning fox is funny;
When thus the public debts are paid,
Deceitful cash is not afraid,
Where funds are hid for private trade,
There's nothing paid but money.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Imploring To Be Resigned At Death
Let me die and not tremble at death,
But smile at the close of my day,
And then, at the flight of my breath,
Like a bird of the morning in May,
Go chanting away.
Let me die without fear of the dead,
No horrors my soul shall dismay,
And with faith's pillow under my head,
With defiance to mortal decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die like a son of the brave,
And martial distinction display,
Nor shrink from a thought of the grave,
No, but with a smile from the clay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die glad, regardless of pain,
No pang to this world to betray;
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Clay’s Defeat
'Tis the hope of the noble defeated;
The aim of the marksman is vain;
The wish of destruction completed,
The soldier eternally slain.
When winter succeeds to the summer,
The bird is too chilly to sing;
No music is play'd for the drummer,
No carol is heard on the wing.
The court of a nation forsaken,
An edifice stripp'd of its dome,
Its fame from her pinnacle shaken,
Like the sigh heaving downfall of Rome.
Fall'n, fall'n is the chief of the witty,
The prince of republican power;
The star-crown of Washington City
Descends his political tower.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Tipler To His Bottle
What hast thou ever done for me?
Defeated every good endeavor;
I never can through life agree
To place my confidence in thee,
Not ever, no, never!
Often have I thy steam admired,
Thou nothing hast avail'd me ever;
Vain have I thought myself inspired,
Say, have I else but pain acquired?
Not ever, no, never!
No earthly good, no stream of health,
Flows from thy fount, thou cheerful giver;
From thee, affluence sinks to stealth,
From thee I pluck no bloom of health,
Whatever, no, never!
Thou canst impart a nobel mind,
Power from my tongue flows like a river;
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Reflections From The Flash Of A Meteor
So teach me to regard my day,
How small a point my life appears;
One gleam to death the whole betrays,
A momentary flash of years.
One moment smiles, the scene is past,
Life's gaudy bloom at once we shed,
And thinly beneath affliction's blast,
Or drop as soon among the dead.
Short is the chain wound up at morn,
Which oft runs down and stops at noon;
Thus in a moment man is born,
And, lo! the creature dies as soon.
Life's little torch how soon forgot,
Dim burning on its dreary shore;
Just like that star which downwards shot,
It glimmers and is seen no more.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Early Affeection
I loved thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray;
And will until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles or tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling galantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in age's blast,
And beauty can ascend no more;
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light;
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight;
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still a moment wait for me.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
On The Poetic Muse
Far, far above this world I soar,
And almost nature lose,
Aerial regions to explore,
With this ambitious Muse.
My towering thoughts with pinions rise,
Upon the gales of song,
Which waft me through the mental skies,
With music on my tongue.
My Muse is all on mystic fire,
Which kindles in my breast;
To scenes remote she doth aspire,
As never yet exprest.
Wrapt in the dust she scorns to lie,
Call'd by new charms away;
Nor will she e'er refuse to try
Such wonders to survey.
[...] Read more
poem by George Moses Horton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!