402

XXI.

Years hence this yellowing leaf may

see,

And put to task, your memory ask
In vain, "This Lowell, who was he?"

AT THE COMMENCEMENT DINNER, 1866, IN ACKNOWLEDGING A TOAST TO THE SMITH PROFESSOR.

I RISE, Mr. Chairman, as both of us know,

With the impromptu I promised you three weeks ago,

Dragged up to my doom by your might and my mane,

To do what I vowed I'd do never again; And I feel like your good honest dough when possest

By a stirring, impertinent devil of yeast. "You must rise," says the leaven. "I can't," says the dough;

"Just examine my bumps and you'll see it's no go."

"But you must," the tormentor insists, "t is all right;

You must rise when I bid you, and, what's more, be light."

"T is a dreadful oppression, this making men speak

What they 're sure to be sorry for all the next week;

Some poor stick requesting, like Aaron's, to bud

Into eloquence, pathos, or wit in cold blood,

As if the dull brain that you vented your spite on

Could be got, like an ox, by mere poking, to Brighton.

A beggar through the world am I, 4.
A camel-driver, angry with his drudge, 404.
A heap of bare and splintery crags, 293.
A hundred years! they 're quickly fled, 400.
A legend that grew in the forest's hush, 60.
A lily thou wast when I saw thee first, 8.
A poet cannot strive for despotism, 18.
A presence both by night and day, 293.
A race of nobles may die out, 81.

A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent, 305.
About the oak that framed this chair, of old, 366.
Alike I hate to be your debtor, 313.
Along a river-side, I know not where, 318.
Amid these fragments of heroic days, 381.
An ass munched thistles, while a nightingale, 403.
"And how could you dream of meeting?" 385.
Auother star 'neath Time's horizon dropped, 85.
Are we, then, wholly fallen? Can it be, 79.
As a twig trembles, which a bird, 72.

As, cleansed of Tiber's and Oblivion's slime, 367.
As, flake by flake, the beetling avalanches, 74.
As life runs on, the road grows strange, 404.
As sinks the sun behind yon alien hills, 381.
As the broad ocean endlessly upheaveth, 18.
At Carnac in Brittany, close on the bay, 374.
At length arrived, your book I take, 364.

At twenty we fancied the blest Middle Ages, 399.
Ay, pale and silent maiden, 14.

Ef I a song or two could make, 229.
Entranced I saw a vision in the cloud, 350.
Ere pales in Heaven the morning star, 377.

Fair as a summer dream was Margaret, 22.
Far over Elf-land poets stretch their sway, 381.
Far through the memory shines a happy day, 331.
Far up on Katahdin thou towerest, 50.
Far 'yond this narrow parapet of Time, 19.
Fit for an Abbot of Theleme, 309.

"For this true nobleness I seek in vain," 16.
Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood, 279.
From the close-shut windows gleams no spark, 4.
Full oft the pathway to her door, 404.

Giddings, far rougher names than thine have
grown, 20.

Go! leave me, Priest; my soul would be, 61.
God! do not let my loved one die, 12.
God makes sech nights, all white an' still, 191.
God sends his teachers unto every age, 37.
Godminster? Is it Fancy's play? 289.

Gold of the reddening sunset, backward thrown,
383.

Gone, gone from us! and shall we see, 1.
Great soul, thou sittest with me in my room, 16.

He who first stretched his nerves of subtile wire,
386.

Heaven's cup held down to me I drain, 71.

Here once my step was quickened, 298.
"Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thun-
der!" 155.

Hers all that Earth could promise or bestow, 382.
Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal-clear, 2.
How strange are the freaks of memory! 314.
How struggles with the tempest's swells, 308.
How was I worthy so divine a loss, 378.
Hushed with broad sunlight lies the hill, 80.

I am a man of forty, sirs, a native of East Had-
dam, 274.

I ask not for those thoughts, that sudden leap, 17.

I call as fly the irrevocable hours, 404.

I cannot think that thou shouldst pass away, 17.

I christened you in happier days, before, 365.

I could not bear to see those eyes, 379.

I did not praise thee when the crowd, 81.

I do not come to weep above thy pall, 84.

I don't much s'pose, hows'ever I should plen it,
239.

I du believe in Freedom's cause, 157.

I go to the ridge in the forest, 299.

I grieve not that ripe knowledge takes away,

20.

I have a fancy: how shall I bring it, 387.

I had a little daughter, 72.

I hed it on iny min' las' time, when I to write ye
started, 210.

I know a falcon, swift and peerless, 39.

I love to start out arter night 's begun, 202.

I need not praise the sweetness of his song, 315.

I rise, Mr. Chairman, as both of us know, 402.

I sat and watched the walls of night, 386.

I sat one evening in my room, 65.

I saw a Sower walking slow, 49.

I saw the twinkle of white feet, 53.

I sent you a message, my friens, t' other day, 215.

I spose you recollect thet I explained my gennle
views, 166.

I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer the
soul o' me, 162.

I swam with undulation soft, 311.

I thank ye, my friens, for the warmth o' your
greetin', 220.

I thought our love at full, but I did err, 20.

I treasure in secret some long, fine hair, 297.

I, walking the familiar street, 375.

I was with thee in Heaven: I cannot tell, 381.

I watched a moorland torrent run, 386.

I went to seek for Christ, 54.

I would more natures were like thine, 8.

I would not have this perfect love of ours, 16.

If I let fall a word of bitter mirth, 342.
If I were the rose at your window, 404.
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen, 83.
In his tower sat the poet, 13.

In life's small things be resolute and great, 404.
In the old days of awe and keen-eyed wonder, 9.
In town I hear, scarce wakened yet, 380.
Into the sunshine, 8.

It is a mere wild rosebud, 36.

It don't seem hardly right, John, 207.

It mounts athwart the windy hill, 317.
It was past the hour of trysting, 64.

It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't writ
no letters, 194.

Leaves fit to have been poor Juliet's cradle-rhyme,
368.

Light of triumph in her eyes, 384.

Look on who will in apathy, and stifle they who
can, 66.

Maiden, when such a soul as thine is born, 17.
Mary, since first I knew thee, to this hour, 19.
Men say the sullen instrument, 316.
Men whose boast it is that ye, 45.

My coachman, in the moonlight there, 288.

My day began not till the twilight fell, 371.

My heart, I cannot still it, 385.

My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die,
17.

My name is Water: I have sped, 77.

My soul was like the sea, 7.

My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott, 263.

Never, surely, was holier man, 63.

New England's poet, rich in love as years, 367.
Nine years have slipt like hour-glass sand, 291.
No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut? Voted
agin him? 151.

Nor deem he lived unto himself alone, 365.
Not always unimpeded can I pray, 286.
Not as all other women are, 4.

Now Biörn, the son of Heriulf, had ill days, 299.

Once git a smell o' musk into a draw, 224.
Once hardly in a cycle blossometh, 18.
Once on a time there was a pool, 214.

One after one the stars have risen and set, 31.
One feast, of holy days the crest, 306.
One kiss from all others prevents me, 380.
Opening one day a book of mine, 386.

Our love is not a fading, earthly flower, 19.
Our ship lay tumbling in an angry sea, 322.
Over his keys the musing organist, 85.

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
96.

Praisest Law, friend? We, too, love it much as
they that love it best, 76.

Propped on the marsh, a dwelling now, I see, 136.
Punctorum garretos colens et cellara Quinque, 232.

Rabbi Jehosha used to say, 306.

Reader! Walk up at once (it will soon be too
late), 91.

Rippling through thy branches goes the sunshine,
64.

Said Christ our Lord, "I will go and see," 77.
Seat of all woes? Though Nature's firm decree,
382.

She gave me all that woman can, 378.
Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold, 387.

Ship, blest to bear such freight across the blue,
367.

Shy soul and stalwart, man of patient will, 365.
Silencioso por la puerta, 380.

Sisters two, all praise to you, 49.

Skilled to pull wires, he baffles Nature's hope, 404.
Sleep is Death's image, poets tell us so, 378.
So dreamy-soft the notes, so far away, 382.
Some sort of heart I know is hers, 69.
Sometimes come pauses of calm, when the rapt
bard, holding his heart back, 377.

Somewhere in India, upon a time, 270.
Spirit, that rarely comest now, 309.
Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now, 298.
Swiftly the politic goes: is it dark?

a lantern, 404.

he borrows

Thank God, he saw you last in pomp of May, 365.
Thanks to the artist, ever on my wall, 367.
That's a rather bold speech, my Lord Bacon, 385.

The Bardling came where by a river grew, 203.
The century numbers fourscore years, 386.
The cordage creaks and rattles in the wind, 45.
The dandelions and buttercups, 287.

The electric nerve, whose instantaneous thrill, 357.
The fire is burning clear and blithely, 306.
The hope of Truth grows stronger, day by day, 18.
The little gate was reached at last, 297.

The love of all things springs from love of one,

18.

The Maple puts her corals on in May, 382.
The misspelt scrawl, upon the wall, 402.
The moon shines white and silent, 12.

The New World's sons, from England's breasts we
drew, 404.

The next whose fortune 't was a tale to tell, 387.
The night is dark, the stinging sleet, 11.

The old Chief, feeling now wellnigh his end, 43.
The path from me to you that led, 377.
The pipe came safe, and welcome too, 364.
The rich man's son inherits lands, 12.
The same good blood that now refills, 78.
The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, 2.
The snow had begun in the gloaming, 285.
The tower of old Saint Nicholas soared upward to
the skies, 48.

The wind is roistering out of doors, 279.

The wisest man could ask no more of Fate, 366.
The world turns mild; democracy, they say, 398.
There are who triumph in a losing cause, 82.
There came a youth upon the earth, 35.
There lay upon the ocean's shore, 286.

There never yet was flower fair in vain, 17.
Therefore think not the Past is wise alone, 19.
These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were
bred, 364.

These rugged, wintry days I scarce could bear, 19.
They pass me by like shadows, crowds on crowds,
20.

Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast, 8.

This is the midnight of the century, -hark! 287.
This kind o' sogerin' aint a mite like our October
trainin', 144.

This little blossom from afar, 4.

Thou look'dst on me all yesternight, 14.
Though old the thought and oft exprest, 287.
Thrash away, you'll hev to rattle, 142.

Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed,

16.

Thy love thou sentest oft to me, 61.

Thy voice is like a fountain, 7.

'Tis a woodland enchanted! 303.

To those who died for her on land and sea, 404.
True as the sun's own work, but more refined, 366.
True Love is but a humble, low-born thing, 6.
Turbid from London's noise and smoke, 378.
"T was sung of old in hut and hall, 377.

'T were no hard task, perchance, to win, 319.
Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair, 138.
Two fellers, Isrel named and Joe, 137.

Unconscious as the sunshine, simply sweet, 366.
Untremulous in the river clear, 5.

Violet! sweet violet! 13.

Wait a little: do we not wait? 310.
Walking alone where we walked together, 380.
We see but half the causes of our deeds, 39.
We, too, have autumns, when our leaves, 78.
We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, 404.
Weak-winged is song, 322.

What boot your houses and your lands? 50.
What countless years and wealth of brain were
spent, 383.

"What fairings will ye that I bring?" 285.
What gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is his!

62.

What man would live coffined with brick and
stone, 73.

What mean these banners spread, 384.

"What means this glory round our feet," 380.
What Nature makes in any mood, 292.

What visionary tints the year puts on, 56.
What were I, Love, if I were stripped of thee, 16.
What were the whole void world, if thou wert
dead, 383.

When a deed is done for Freedom, through the
broad earth's aching breast, 54.
When I was a beggarly boy, 291.

When oaken woods with buds are pink, 376.
When Persia's sceptre trembled in a hand, 284.