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Full Online Book HomePoemsWelcome To The Nations
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Welcome To The Nations Post by :Mexicurios Category :Poems Author :Oliver Wendell Holmes Date :November 2010 Read :2877

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Welcome To The Nations


BRIGHT on the banners of lily and rose
Lo! the last sun of our century sets!
Wreathe the black cannon that scowled on our foes,
All but her friendships the nation forgets
All but her friends and their welcome forgets!
These are around her; but where are her foes?
Lo, while the sun of her century sets,
Peace with her garlands of lily and rose!

Welcome! a shout like the war trumpet's swell
Wakes the wild echoes that slumber around
Welcome! it quivers from Liberty's bell;
Welcome! the walls of her temple resound!
Hark! the gray walls of her temple resound
Fade the far voices o'er hillside and dell;
Welcome! still whisper the echoes around;
Welcome I still trembles on Liberty's bell!

Thrones of the continents! isles of the sea
Yours are the garlands of peace we entwine;
Welcome, once more, to the land of the free,
Shadowed alike by the pahn and the pine;
Softly they murmur, the palm and the pine,
"Hushed is our strife, in the land of the free";
Over your children their branches entwine,
Thrones of the continents! isles of the sea!

(The end)
Oliver Wendell Holmes's poem: Welcome To The Nations

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A Familiar Letter A Familiar Letter

A Familiar Letter
TO SEVERAL CORRESPONDENTSYES, 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 romancesWere 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,--What is there to hinder your picking out phrasesFor an epic

Old Cambridge Old Cambridge

Old Cambridge
JULY 3, 1875AND can it be you've found a placeWithin this consecrated space,That makes so fine a show,For one of Rip Van Winkle's race?And is it really so?Who wants an old receipted bill?Who fishes in the Frog-pond still?Who digs last year's potato hill?--That's what he'd like to know!And were it any spot on earthSave this dear home that gave him birthSome scores of years ago,He had not come to spoil your mirthAnd chill your festive glow;But round his baby-nest he strays,With tearful eye the scene surveys,His heart unchanged by changing days,That's what he'd have you know.Can you whose eyes not yet