{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3772", "width": "2427", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Glass.\\nBook.\\n^oi:", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "O-yvX-^\\nJ.", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "I", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "COMPLETE POEMS\\nOF\\nCOL. JOHN A. JOYCE\\nAuthor of Checkered Life, Peculiar Poems, Zig-Zag,\\nJewels of Memory, Songs, Etc.\\nILLUSTRATED BY PAUL D. SULLIVAN\\nWashington\\nTHE NEALE COMPANY\\n431 Eleventh Street\\n1900", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "V\\n^^K^^\\nCopyrighted, 1900, by The Neale Company", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "v3\\nS)ct)ication\\nI DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE EEADER WHO\\nPOSSESSES THE LEAST POLICY AND\\nTHE MOST PRINCIPLE", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "PREFACE\\nThese rocks of rhyme and pebbles of poetry I\\nthrow into the world of thought, trusting that\\nthey may macadamize the highway of life with\\nconfidence, love and beauty; and as they have\\nsprung spontaneously from my impulsive heart\\nduring the past forty years, I leave the Brain\\nBabies to the justice and mercy of mankind.\\nJ. A. J.\\nWashington, D. C,\\nMarch, 1900.", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "ILLUSTRATIONS\\nPAGE\\nPortrait of Col. John A. Joyce frontispiece\\nThe sexton leant on his spade 25\\nOur hearts kept tune together while kissing o er the bars 51\\nWhile chasing butterfly or bee 93\\nForward! Guide Right! Shoot first in the fight! 117\\nJust see her in the waltz, so light and free! 133\\nLawton s fame shall live forever 149\\nThe Washington Girl 165\\nAn de darkies now am happy all de day 181", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nA Confederate Soldier 61\\nA Conundrum 187\\nA Cure 123\\nA Dollar or Two 108\\nA Fireside Memory 179\\nA Friend 186\\nAlbion 67\\nA Memory 11\\nA Memory 43\\nAmong the Hills 183\\nA Prophesy 156\\nA Soldier s Death 131\\nA True Bill 39\\nBoast Not 187\\nBobby Burns 128\\nBy the Sea 3\\nChristmas Eve 47\\nCrape on the Door 147\\nDecoration Day Poem 68\\nDecoration Day Poem 73\\nDecoration Poem 57\\nDewey 55\\nDon t 41\\nDon t Gamble in Stocks 158\\nvii", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "PAGB\\nDross 38\\nDuplicity 39\\nEnvy 136\\nErin 86\\nExpanding 54\\nFar Down the Lane 178\\nFarewell 8\\nFatality 143\\nFettered 36\\nFirst Kisses 154\\nFlitting 37\\nFlora Lee 92\\nFlowers of Hope 21\\nForgetting 23\\nForty Years 14\\nForward! 116\\nGeneral Garcia 140\\nGenius 56\\nGenius 151\\nGod is Near 53\\nGolden Hair 18\\nGone 44\\nGrant s Mustered Out 75\\nHancock 119\\nHave the Robins Come? 45\\nHope On 114\\nHow You Feel 30\\nHurrah! 76\\nHurrah for Cuba! 91\\nHurrah for Dave Henderson 153\\nHurrah for the Boers! 48\\nI Have Sinned and I Have Suffered 18\\nI m Lonesome 105\\nIndependence 81", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "PAGE\\nIn the Library 130\\nI Walk Alone 1\\nKatie and I 17\\nKentucky 71\\nKissing O er the Bars 60\\nLaughing Voices 141\\nLaugh On 42\\nLawton 148\\nLet Me Rest 186\\nLet s Drink To-Night 191\\nLife 34\\nLion 98\\nLindalou 10\\nLord Byron Ill\\nLost 137\\nLove 12\\nLove 46\\nLove and Laughter 2\\nLovers Once 155\\nLynching 102\\nMadame De Stael 125\\nMarie 147\\nMasonic Bright Light 175\\nMattievan 132\\nMazy 9\\nMy Baby s Eyes 20\\nMy Belief 32\\nMy Country 76\\nMy Home 140\\nMy Love 135\\nMy Old Flag 167\\nMy War-Horse, Bob 176\\nNapoleon 115\\nNature s God 38", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "PA6B\\nNight and Day 101\\nNora 155\\nNow and Then 142\\nObituary Pathos 104\\nOcean Memories 16\\nO er the Embers 11\\nOh! Helen! 151\\nor Kentucky Home 180\\nOld Friends 45\\nOur Starry Banner 77\\nPeace Jubilee 97\\nPoe 128\\nPork in Power 106\\nQuestion and Answer 4\\nRawlins 78\\nRemember the Maine 77\\nRest 125\\nRest 188\\niSacrifice 23\\nSalutatory 138\\nSecret Love 4\\nShadov/s on the Wall 189\\nShakespeare 160\\nShall We Live Again? 49\\nSherman 88\\nSir Moses Montefiore 163\\nStanton 81\\nStephen Collins Foster 129\\nSweet Lizzie 143\\nSweet Sixteen 159\\nTear Down the Flag 85\\nTen Years 44\\nThe Attorney-at-Law 171\\nThe Battle of Shiloh 61", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "FA6X\\nThe Blue and the Gray 97\\nThe Boast of Bacchus 177\\nThe Bridge 161\\nThe Busybody 157\\nThe Celestial City 31\\nThe Cricket 6\\nThe Day is Done 31\\nThe Dead of the Maine 84\\nThe Exile 53\\nThe Farmer 122\\nThe Fatherland 6\\nThe Fire Bells 99\\nThe Has Beens 152\\nThe Hog 192\\nThe Jew 15\\nThe Leaves Are Falling 2\\nThe Lost Atlantis 190\\nThe Men Behind the Guns 72\\nThe Morning Glory 42\\nThe Night 101\\nThe Ocean Grave 13\\nThe Old Homestead 7\\nThe Old Soldiers 80\\nThe Original Toast 124\\nThe Philosopher s Dream 37\\nThe Private Secretary 161\\nThe Rain 103\\nThe Rocks in the River 146\\nThe Sea 136\\nThe Senate Chaplain 127\\nThe Sermon 22\\nThe Sexton 24\\nThe Soldier 82\\nThe Soul 122", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "PAOK\\nThe Storm 99\\nThe Story of the Sage 27\\nThe Sunbeam 21\\nThe Sutler 65\\nThe Voice of the Clock 13\\nThe Washington Girl 164\\nThe Whispering Trees 175\\nThere s No Pocket in a Shroud 174\\nToll the Bell 9\\nTrappings of Clay 162\\nTrue Love 19\\nUncle Sam 83\\nUnknown 184\\nVain Little Man 124\\nVain Man 47\\nVanity 65\\nVictor Hugo 193\\nWaiting 107\\nWalter M. Moreland 127\\nWashington 129\\nWashington Monument 168\\nWedding Bells 173\\nWebster 126\\nWhat I Love 34\\nWhen? 107\\nWhen I Am Dead 15\\nWhere is God To-Day? 192\\nWyoming Valley 172\\nZeus 100\\nasii", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "COMPLETE POEMS\\nOF\\nCOL, JOHN A. JOYCE\\nI WALK ALONE.\\n[Dedicated to Gen. John B. Henderson, Yoseraite Valley, July 4, 1874.\\nI walk alone where morning beams are shining,\\nAnd winds are blowing o er the stormy sea\\nI look aloft and see a silver lining\\nThat thrills my soul with thoughts of Deity.\\nI walk alone where evening shadows lower,\\nPeering through the crimson clouds of fate\\nMy heart beats out the lagging, weary hour,\\nRepeating to my soul too late, too late.\\nI walk alone where mountain streams are leaping,\\nAnd snow-capped summits reach unto the sky,\\nAnd still my nightly, silent watch I m keeping,\\nGazing into worlds beyond that never die.\\nI walk alone the rugged road of life,\\nWhere human May-flies flutter, fly, and fall\\nI battle still with everlasting strife\\nAmbition, glory, and the grave that s all", "height": "3645", "width": "2305", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "THE LEAVES ARE FALLING.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. William B. Allison, Iowa, November, 1866.]\\nThe leaves are falling, I hear you calling\\nFrom out the years that slumber in the past.\\nAsleep or waking, my heart is breaking\\nFor one sweet love that thrills it to the last.\\nThe leaves are sailing, and I m bewailing\\nThe lost affections of my vanished youth,\\nWhen friends were nearer, and hearts were dearer.\\nAnd life was in the heaven of their truth.\\nThe leaves are flying, the winds are sighing,\\nAnd Nature in her garb of green and gray\\nMakes many changes o er hills and ranges\\nA bride of beauty in her autumn day.\\nAlong the hours, in golden showers,\\nThe leaves are falling over hill and dale\\nTheir ranks are broken a voiceless token\\nThat we shall follow down the fading vale\\nAnd perish like the leaves blown by the gale\\nLOVE AND LAUGHTER.\\n[Dedicated to George D. Prentice, 1863.]\\nLaugh, and the world laughs with you\\nWeep, and you weep alone\\nThis grand old earth must borrow its mirth,\\nIt has troubles enough of its own.\\nSing, and the hills will answer\\nSigh, it is lost on the air\\nThe echoes bound to a joyful sound\\nBut shrink from voicing care.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "Be glad, and your friends are many\\nBe sad, and you lose them all\\nThere are none to decline your nectared wine,\\nBut alone you must drink life s gall.\\nThere is room in the halls of pleasure\\nFor a long and a lordly train.\\nBut one by one we must all file on\\nThrough the narrow aisles of pain.\\nFeast, and your halls are crowded\\nFast, and the world goes by\\nSucceed and give, t will help you live\\nBut no one can help you die.\\nRejoice, and men will seek you\\nGrieve, and they turn and go\\nThey want full measure of all your pleasure,\\nBut they do not want your woe\\nBY THE SEA.\\nI am standing by the sea,\\nAnd I listen to the roar\\nOf the mighty ocean\\nAs it breaks against the shore.\\nI think of Now and Then,\\nAnd long for evermore\\nTo taste of living wine\\nOn God s eternal shore.\\nI see the breaker coming.\\nWith a petrel on its crest\\nI plunge into the billow.\\nWildly crying, Here is rest\\n3", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "SECRET LOVE.\\n[Dedicated to Miss E. R. G.]\\nYou have lived in my heart year after year,\\nAnd the secret I never have told\\nI think of you now with joj^ and with fear,\\nBut you re haughty, and heartless, and cold.\\nMy nature is honest, loving and tme,\\nYet I sigh in the depths of my soul\\nFor one word of love that will bring me to you,\\nMy ideal, my fate, and my goal.\\nMy love may be crushed with your coldness,\\nAnd my heart may be withered by care.\\nBut I never can tell you with boldness\\nOf the love that I secretly bear.\\nI see you in crowds shining brightly,\\nAnd my soul swells with pride at your fame\\nEvery word in your praise, though so slightly,\\nThrills my heart at the sound of your name.\\nAnd you never will know of my weeping,\\nNor the love that I coyly enshrine\\nFor daily and nightly I m keeping\\nPrecious thoughts that can only be mine.\\nQUESTION AND ANSWER.\\nQUESTION.\\nWill you love me, darling Katie,\\nWhen my steps are weak and slow\\nWill you love me ever truly,\\nThrough the vale of joy and woe", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "Will you love me when the world\\nFrowns, and looks with scorning eye\\nWill you love me till the moment\\nWhen I heave the parting sigh\\nWill you love me when I m gone.\\nAs you love me now while here\\nWill your heartbeats ever linger\\nOn my name throughout the year\\nWill you love me in the springtime\\nWill you love me in the fall\\nCan I count on you in winter\\nWhen the snow hangs over all\\nI shall love you in misfortune,\\nWith all my heart and soul\\nI shall never cease to love thee\\nWhile the stars around me roll.\\nThen, darling, never doubt me\\nIn the turns of time so strange\\nMy star of love shall never set,\\nMy heart shall never change.\\nBut life and love I 11 give thee\\nThy bride in truth was cast\\nMy heart and soul, fondly thine\\nDear, darling, to the last.\\nYes, Willie, I shall love thee\\nWhen your locks are growing gray\\nI shall love you in December\\nWith the love I gave in May", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "THE FATHERLAND.\\n[To mein frau.]\\nI will drink to my own Fatherland,\\nTo the crags and the vales of the Rhine,\\nWhere the rugged old castles still stand,\\nAnd the hills blush with grape and with wine.\\nT is there, in the morning of childhood,\\nI wandered as free as a fawn\\nAnd echoes I heard in the wildwood\\nWere pure as the dew and the dawn.\\nThe landscape and Black Forest mountain\\nAre pictured in memory by me,\\nAnd every Rhine rock and fair fountain\\nSings the song of the fatal Lorelei\\nTHE CRICKET.\\nLittle cricket, standing picket\\nNear the blazing hearth,\\nChirping lightly, blithe and brightly,\\nWhence thy early birth\\nSing away, my little cricket,\\nTime is on the wing\\nLive the hours in warm bowers\\nChirping in the spring.\\nWho can tell the nameless longing\\nIn thy sable crest\\nWho can tell the thoughts now thronging\\nIn the cricket s breast\\n6", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "THE OLD HOMESTEAD.\\nI gaze on my old ruined homestead to-day\\nThrough the tears of a wild, vanished youth\\nI see the broad porches gone down to decay\\nWhere my mother instilled every truth.\\nThe chimney has crumbled away in the blast,\\nAnd the rafters have all tumbled down\\nThe hearthstone brings back all the joys of the past\\nAs the clouds in the west darkly frown.\\nThe spring at the foot of the hill has gone dry,\\nAnd the apple and plum trees have gone\\nI stand in the gloom as the winds deeply sigh\\nSee the ghosts of my friends one by one.\\nHere, my mother and father sleep side by side\\nIn a nook on the top of the hill\\nWhere my heart was as light as the foam on the tide\\nWhen I sauntered about the old mill\\nThat stood on the banks of the creek, down the lane,\\nWhere it rumbled its musical flow\\nBut alas I shall never play there again\\nAs I played in the sweet long ago.\\nThe woodpecker drums o er my head on the oak\\nAnd the gray squirrel chatters his tune,\\nBut where are the schoolmates whose sport and whose joke\\nThrilled my heart in the play-spell at noon?\\nSome are gone o er the ranges to sleep in the vale\\nLike myself, some have wandered afar\\nBlown about like a leaf in a withering gale\\nOr attuned like a broken guitar.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "By the last ray of sunset I sadly behold\\nThe old ruined home of my youth,\\nWhere the jessamine clambered in colors of gold.\\nAnd the voices I heard spoke the truth.\\nFarewell to the scenes and the friends that I knew\\nIn the morning of life, bright and fair\\nMy heart shall forever commingle with you\\nAnd my spirit shall always be there I\\nFAREWELL.\\nFarewell farewell My heart is sad and lonely.\\nWhile sailing o er life s surging, stormy sea\\nMy soul-lit thoughts are centered in thee only\\nThe sweetest being in my memory.\\nFarewell farewell The secret of my longing\\nCan not be told to those of common clay\\nYet, from the past your plighted vows come thronging,\\nAnd thrill me with a love that could not stay.\\nFarewell farewell My bark is on the billow\\nThat hastens onward to a foreign shore\\nI fain would rest upon a fevered pillow,\\nAnd still my weary soul forever more.\\nFarewell farewell Another hand shall lead thee,\\nAnother heart has won the prize I sought\\nWhy, oh, why could you rebuke, deceive me,\\nAnd leave me lonely with this killing thought\\nFarewell farewell Thus we are doomed to sever,\\nAnd break the tie that bound us to the past\\nYet in my heart, forever and forever,\\nI 11 keep your sainted image to the last.\\n8", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "MAZY.\\nShe sleeps on the hill near the crumbling mil\\nAnd my mind is nearly craz}\\nWhen I note the hours and faded flowers\\nGone with the sun and the daisy.\\nThrough the orchard wild, as a loving child.\\nShe sported long in the clover\\nAnd the blossoms free fi-om the apple-tree,\\nShe heaped on her pet dog, Rover.\\nThe bees she chased, in her laughing haste.\\nIn the fields and nooks so sunn)\\nWith roses red she decked her head\\nAnd life was sweet as honey.\\nA few more years a few more teai\\nWill waft me away to Mazy\\nAnd I shall sleep where willows weep\\nBy her side, neath the blooming daisy.\\nTOLL THE BELL.\\nToll the bell slowly; meekly and lowly\\nThere comes an inanimate clod.\\nSleeping forever beyond the dark river\\nA mortal has gone to his God.\\nToll the bell faintly echoes so saintly\\nAre sounding o er river and lea,\\nTelling the living all need forgiving\\nBefore God and eternity.\\nToll the bell lightly daily and nightly\\nA spirit is watching for thee,\\n9", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "One that has loved us, one that has proved us,\\nSome fond soul who loved you and me.\\nToll the bell sadly heart-broken, madly\\nWe kiss the cold lips of the dead.\\nWith hope, love, and tears, run back o er the years\\nTo pluck out some cruel word said.\\nLINDALOU.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. S. S. Cox, late Minister to Turkey.]\\n1 drink to the light of the harem,\\nAs lithe as a classical faun,\\nA soft scintillation of pleasure,\\nA beautiful creature of dawn,\\nAnd frail as the dew on the lawn.\\nI sing to the light of the harem,\\nAs she glides through the gilded saloon,\\nAnd floats like a sylph o er a zephyr.\\nWho leaves me in sorrow too soon\\nWhen passion has reached its high noon\\nI sigh for the light of the harem,\\nA sunbeam of magical hue,\\nA beauty, the rarest and fairest,\\nThe pride of the Sultan Boohoo\\nMy royal coquette, Lindalou.\\nI live in the light of the harem,\\nAnd bask neath those beautiful eyes,\\nRecline on rich Ottoman velvets\\nTo gaze on the Bosphorus skies,\\nLindalou and her sweet paradise.\\n10", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "A MEMORY.\\n[Dedicated to DeLancy Gill.]\\nAd own the vanished years where memory lingers\\nThere comes to me a picture from the past,\\nAnd round her brow I see fond fairy fingers\\nEntwining rarest roses to the last.\\nHer laughing voice could banish every sorrow,\\nHer sunny smile was all the world to me\\nYet vainly from the past I try to borrow\\nHer presence from that dark eternity.\\nIt must be that beyond the stars now shining\\nShe waits and watches for my coming call\\nFor oft in dreams my weary head reclining,\\nUpon her bosom finds its sweet enthrall.\\nO ER THE EMBERS.\\nO er the embers of departed pleasure\\nI ponder lonely on the days no more,\\nAnd think of loved ones that I fondly treasure\\nWho ve long since landed on the other shore.\\nTheir image beams from out the smoldering fire,\\nWhere memory holds her banquet to the last\\nTheir voices vibrate on the golden lyre\\nThat links the passing present with the past.\\nAgain I hear their songs of bliss and beauty.\\nTheir merry laughter and their joyous glee,\\nWhen all was truth and hope and duty,\\nAnd Life and Love were all the world to me.\\n11", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "And though the snows of many a cruel winter\\nHave fallen thickly o er my bending head,\\nAnd Time upon my brow has been a printer,\\nI still must cherish the dear, sainted dead.\\nWell I 11 cover up the embers with the ashe?\\nOf fruitless efforts that have passed away,\\nAnd linger on the lights that memory flashes\\nAcrosjs the fields now barren, bleak, and gray.\\nLOVE.\\nlasp me to your warm embrace\\nTake me to your loving heart\\nLet me feel your velvet face,\\nBreast to breast, and heart to heart.\\nNevermore to pine or part.\\nIn your eyes my heaven is shining\\nGolden sunlight is your hair\\nAll my clouds have silver lining\\nWhile your spirit hovers there,\\nAnd I see you everywhere.\\nAs the river to the ocean,\\nAnd the brooklet to the sea,\\nSo my soul throbs with emotion,\\nAll its currents turn to thee.\\nFaithful to eternifiy.\\nThrill me with your passion kisses\\nFill me with a nameless joy\\nEarth has no such cherished blisses,\\nPleasure that we can t destroy,\\nVirgin gold without alloy\\n12", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "THE VOICE OF THE CLOCK.\\n[Dedicated to Derwln De Forest, of New York.]\\nTick, tick, the moments fly,\\nTick, tick, we live and die.\\nTick, tick, goes the hour,\\nTick, tick, fades the flower.\\nTick, tick, heartbeats go,\\nTick, tick, weal or woe.\\nTick, tick, soon are fled,\\nTick, tick, lost and dead.\\nTick, tick, days and years,\\nTick, tick, smiles and tears.\\nTick, tick, wind and wave,\\nTick, tick, grief, the grave.\\nTHE OCEAN GRAVE.\\nLet me rest in the boundless ocean,\\nWhere the storm-king rules the wave,\\nWhere waters are ever in motion\\nAbove a limitless grave.\\nLet me rest where the roaring billow\\nResounds o er the waters wide,\\nA dirge o er my coral pillow,\\nA song for my mermaid bride.\\nLet me rest where the evening twilight\\nMellows the parting day,\\nWhere the sea-birds flit in the moonlight\\nThrough breakers of blue and gray.\\n13", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "Let me sink where the sands are shining\\nOn the surf of a lonely shore,\\nWhere the clouds have a silver lining\\nAnd there .s rest for evermore.\\nFORTY YEARS.\\n[A memorj of Mount Sterling, Ky.]\\nForty years are gone to-morrow\\nSince these streams and hills I knew\\nForty years of joy and sorrow\\nBring me back, dear hills, to you.\\nMany friends I loved are sleeping\\nOn the crest of yonder hill\\nNeath the willows gently weeping,\\nNear the sound of Perry s mill.\\nBeaux and beauties that I cherished\\nLeft me in their early bloom,\\nYet their memory never perished\\nWith the blight that blurs the tomb.\\nRaven locks no more are shining\\nLost and gone the flowers of May\\nYet how vain is all repining\\nIn my crown of silver gray.\\nVanished voices in the twilight\\nFloat above the hill and plain\\nCall me fondly to the skylight,\\nThrill my heart with love again.\\n14", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "THE JEW.\\n[Dedicated to the fair Hebrew ladies.]\\nThe wild ivy vine of old Palestine\\nCreeps over its temples and towers\\nAnd leaves but a trace of the historic race\\nThat once filled its beautiful bowers.\\nYet age after age on every page\\nOf the record of love and of life,\\nThe Hebrew appears to bloom o er the years\\nAnd soars over sorrow and strife.\\nThough crushed and reddled, defeated, despoiled,\\nThe seed of the martyrs abound,\\nAnd all o er the earth where mortals have birth\\nThe Jew and the Jewess are found.\\nIn science and art they each take a part,\\nAnd labor for liberty, too\\nThe tyrant they hate in church or in state,\\nAnd freedom they always pursue.\\nSuccess to the Jew, the wandering Hebrew,\\nWho never was known to despair\\nIn bondage or chains, in losses or pains,\\nHis face can be seen everywhere.\\nWHEN I AM DEAD.\\nWhen I am dead let no vain pomp display\\nA surface sorrow o er my pulseless clay,\\nBut all the dear old friends I loved in life\\nCan shed a tear, console my child and wife.\\n15", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "When I am dead let strangers pass me by,\\nNor ask a reason for the how or why\\nThat brought my wandering life to praise or shame,\\nOr marked me for the fading flowers of fame.\\nWhen I am dead the vile assassin tongue\\nWill try and banish all the lies it flung,\\nAnd make amends for all its cruel wrong\\nIn fulsome praise and eulogistic song.\\nWhen I am dead, what matters to the crowd\\nThe world will rattle on as long and loud,\\nAnd each one in the game of life will plod\\nThe field to glory and the way to God.\\nWhen I am dead some sage for self-renown\\nMay urn my ashes in his native town,\\nAnd give, when I am cold, and lost, and dead,\\nA marble slab, where once I needed bread.\\nOCEAN MEMORIES.\\n[A San Francisco souvenir.]\\nYears have gone by since we met by the sea.\\nThe kiss that you gave, love, lingers with me\\nThrills in my heart like an angelic tune,\\nPerfume distilled from the roses of June,\\nSilvery light from the face of the moon.\\nLulled to repose by moan of the ocean.\\nClasped in a thrill of blissful emotion,\\nSunlight and starlight we catch but a gleam\\nThe world is afloat we live in a dream,\\nAnd things are not surely all that they seem.\\n16", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "Your secret and gem I still fondly keep\\nSo close to my heart, awake or asleep\\nThe world has no treasure dearer to me\\nUnpurchased, unsought, love without fee,\\nWas that soul-thrilling gift down by the sea.\\nAbsent and lonely my soul flies to thee,\\nBack to the shore of that sweet summer sea\\nA land where the vine and the orange doth bloom,\\nAnd silver and gold its mountains entomb\\nA paradise planted, rich with perfume.\\nSadly I sigh for your loving embrace\\nFancy awakens the light of your face\\nOut through the mists of yon echoless shore\\nAngels are calling my lost, loved Lacore\\nSighing I pine for your love evermore\\nKATIE AND I.\\n[Suggested by my wife.]\\nKatie and I sat singing, singing\\nAs the moon went down\\nWhile bells were loudly ringing, ringing\\nIn the far-off town.\\nKatie and I sat thinking, thinking\\nOf the long ago\\nSweet baby fingers lightly linking\\nMemories under snow.\\nKatie and I soon sleeping, sleeping\\nNeath the silent sod\\nOur spirits fondly greeting, greeting\\nChildren, rest, and God.\\n17", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "GOLDEN HAIR.\\n[Dedicated to Emily Thornton Charles.]\\nOnly a lock of golden hair\\nThat I gaze on with ceaseless pain,\\nWorn by an image pure and fair,\\nThat never shall bless me again.\\nShe went like the mist of morning\\nTo shine with the stars above,\\nA beautiful, chaste adorning\\nIn a realm of endless love.\\nYet often when evening twilight\\nEncircles my heart with gloom\\nI hear her voice from the starlight\\nThat sparkles within my room.\\nAnd I see through the mystic moonbeams\\nHer form so rare and fair,\\nA radiant light from Heaven so bright,\\nWith tresses of golden hair.\\n\u00c2\u00abI HAVE SINNED AND I HAVE SUFFERED.\\n[Last words of John Howard Payne, author of Home, Sweet Home.\\nI have sinned and I have suffered,\\nYet the world will never know\\nHow I tried to do my duty\\nIn the long, the long ago.\\nI have sinned and I have suffered,\\nHuman nature is so weak\\nYet my tongue can not be tempted\\nTo disclose, betray, or speak.\\n18", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "I have sinned and I have suffered,\\nWho has not through blood and bono\\nIf there be a mortal living,\\nLet him bravely cast the stone.\\nI have sinned and I have suffered,\\nJust the same as other men,\\nBut my heart can not be conquered,\\nNor the soul that burns within.\\nI have sinned and I have suffered,\\nMournful memories come to me\\nYet beyond the clouds of sorrow\\nRifts of sunshine I can see.\\nI have sinned and I have suffered,\\nHe can sink and He can save\\nAll the human hearts that wander\\nTo the cold and silent grave.\\nTRUE LOVE.\\nLove that needs a daily nursing\\nIs, to my heart, none at all\\nAll its blessings are but cursing\\nTo the soul that asks it all.\\nLove that lives for gold and fashion\\nIs as hollow as the sphere\\nOnly thrives with pounds and passion.\\nFooling thee from year to year.\\nLove that changes with the morrow\\nIs as fickle as the air\\n19", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "Fleeing far, in pain and sorrow\\nFalse and cruel everywhere.\\nLove that can t endure the winter\\nAnd the adverse race of life,\\nIs a poor, ignoble sprinter\\nA pretender in the strife.\\nGive me only her that lingers\\nOver every storm and wave,\\nWhose devoted, faithful fingers,\\nScatters roses o er my grave.\\nMY BABY S EYES.\\n[To Florence.]\\nMy baby s eyes in melting blue\\nAre beaming bright as morning dew,\\nAnd from the sky light take a hue.\\nOr like the star light bright and true.\\nMy baby s eyes in liquid roll\\nEnhance my world from pole to pole,\\nAnd love sits smiling in that goal\\nForever speaking to my soul.\\nMy baby s eyes in other years\\nMay fill with many scalding tears,\\nAnd yet through cruel taunts and jeers\\nA parent s love will banish fears.\\nMy baby s eyes in blight or bloom,\\nThose glorious orbs in grief or gloom,\\nShall be to me, in death or doom,\\nThe dearest diamonds of the tomb.\\n20", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "THE SUNBEAM.\\nA beautiful beam came into my cell\\nFresh from the eye of Jehovah, to tell\\nThat bolts and bars can not keep out the light\\nOf truth and justice, of mercy and right\\nIt checkered the flags through the iron door,\\nAnd danced in the shadows that kissed the floor,\\nAnd loitered about in a friendly way.\\nUntil beckoned back at the close of day\\nWhen out of the window it flew on high.\\nAnd hastened back to its home in the sky.\\nI followed the beautiful beam to rest,\\nTo a sea of light in the golden west\\nIt dropped to sleep on the dark blue sea\\nAnd left me the sweetest memory.\\nI turned to my soul for calm relief.\\nBalm to my wound, a check to my grief\\nWhen visions of glory shone from above\\nWhere the light is God, and God is love I\\nFLOWERS OF HOPE.\\n[Dedicated to M. J. Murphy.]\\nThe sweetest flowers of golden hours\\nMust fade and pass away\\nBut love or truth, of age or youth,\\nShall never know decay.\\nThe hills are gray. Old Time won t stay,\\nBut keeps upon the wing\\nIts flight of years bring smiles and tears\\nTo peasant, prince, and king.\\n21", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "Dear friends, depart and leave the heart-\\nA ruin old and lone\\nWith nothing here, from year to year,\\nWhich it can call its own.\\nYet, o er the gloom beyond the tomb,\\nWhere Hope can only see.\\nThere is a rest among the blessed,\\nAnd joy for you and me.\\nTHE SERMON.\\nThe sermon I heard in the woods to-day\\nWas the grandest I ever heard\\nA chorus of Nature, and love-lit lay.\\nOf the Cricket, the Bee, and the Bird\\nAnd the prayer was Truth, and the text was Love,\\nAnd the pew-holders ferns and flowers.\\nThat raised their heads to their God above\\nAs they sweetened the fleeting hours\\nAnd the pulpit was rock, and cliff and hills,\\nAnd the preachers were giant trees\\nWhile the organ tones were the sounding rills\\nThat rolled on the balmy breeze\\nAnd those forest aisles in the morning light\\nFilled my soul with a nameless glow\\nAnd visions of beauty beaming and bright\\nThat I cherished so long ago I", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "SACRIFICE.\\nT is hard to plant and never reap a sheaf;\\nT is hard to smile through tears of anguished grief;\\nBut harder still to love and love in vain,\\nAnd nurse for life the secret, scorching pain.\\nT is hard to toil for glory and for fame,\\nT is hard to fight and win a lasting name,\\nBut harder still to work for ingrate friends\\nWho only know their sordid aims and ends.\\nT is hard to lead a high and noble life\\nAmong the human gnats of worldly strife\\nBut harder still to sacrifice yourself\\nFor those who pander to the power of pelf\\nFORGETTING.\\nThe friends that I loved in December\\nAnd cherished so fondly in May,\\nHave long since forgot to remember,\\nAnd vanished like dewdrops away.\\nIn sunshine and power I was toasted\\nAnd feasted by courtiers so kind\\nAnd, Oh how the parasites boasted\\nOf the wonderful traits of my mind.\\nBut when the dark hour of my trouble\\nArose like a storm in the sky,\\nThe vipers began to play double,\\nAnd forgot the bright glance of my eye I\\n23", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "THE SEXTON.\\n[From a recent Kentucky scene.]\\nPatiently waiting the nameless dead,\\nThe sexton leant on his spade,\\nWith thin, gray locks round his rugged head,\\nO er the grave he had newly made.\\nHe thought of his home in a distant land,\\nWhere the heather and thistle grow,\\nAnd the waves that sound on its rocky strand,\\nWhere the storm winds beat and blow.\\nAnd his eyes were filled with impulsive tears,\\nAs alone by the grave he stood.\\nWhile memory brought back forty years\\nOf the young, the bright, and the good.\\nMother and father had passed away.\\nAnd wife, and daughter, and son\\nAnd he alone in the evening gray\\nWith his race so nearly run.\\nThe funeral train, in twilight hour.\\nAway from the churchyard fled.\\nAnd the blare and pomp of worldly power\\nTouched not the ear of the dead.\\nAnd the sexton old, with a thistle bloom,\\nWas found at the dawn of day,\\nAsleep at last by a silent tomb,\\nWith his locks so thin and gray.\\n24", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "The sextofi leant on his spade", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "THE STORY OF THE SAGE.\\nI met a sage, decrepit, old and gray,\\nWhile plodding through his last declining day,\\nAnd asked him as he wandered down the vale\\nTo tell me of his life s eventful tale.\\nHe leant upon his staff and paused awhile.\\nThen gazed across the sea to some fair isle\\nThat met his fading vision through the gloom,\\nWhere roses blossom in eternal bloom,\\nFair youth, he said, my well-remembered years\\nArise before me now through smiles and tears,\\nAnd take me back to love-lit, golden hours,\\nWhen life was young, amid sweet fragrant flowers\\nMy hopes were of the golden time to be.\\nOr like a full-rigged ship upon the sea\\nFreighted with all the flashing hues of mind\\nThat thrill the soul or deify mankind.\\nMy boyhood pleasure was as bright as thine\\nCame lightly as the foam on rosy wine\\nBut like the foam it quickly passed away\\nAnd left me to another doubtful day.\\nI fondly thought that when my manhood came\\nI d rush into the ranks and win a name\\nThat ages yet unborn would emulate,\\nAnd grant me glory in both church and state.\\nIn blooming age I sought for power and place,\\nAnd won distinction in full many a race\\nBut just as sweet perfection came to view\\nThe bowl was dashed and left me trials anew.\\nI sought the fleld of glory and of war.\\nMy hope as bright as yonder evening star\\nAnd there I heard the shot and shrieking shell,\\nThat roared in terror, like a voice from hell.\\n27", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "Upon the ramparts high I waved my flag.\\nAnd struggled bravely up the mountain crag\\nBut just as Victory o er me threw her spell\\nI dropped the flag, faltered, wounded fell.\\nA broken soldier who has known defeat\\nCan fight and fall, but never can retreat,\\nAnd now you see me just the sport of Fate,\\nIts taunting voice still ringing out too late.\\nIn legislative halls with words ornate\\nI shone amid the thunders of debate,\\nAnd reaped some glory with a loud applause\\nFor making many wholesome, honest laws.\\nI walked among the noble and the great\\nWho stood as pillars to the rising state\\nAnd while Dame Fortune promised every prize,\\nI only caught a glimpse of her bright eyes.\\nYes, I have known a loving maid s embrace.\\nWhose soul shone brightly in her cheering face,\\nWhile laughing children clambered on my knee,\\nAnd blessed me with the glory of their glee.\\nYet these have gone and left me weak and lone,\\nWith nothing here that I can call my own.\\nLike yon bare pine that topples to decay\\nAnd droops above where all its fellows lay\\nOr like an eagle on some mountain height.\\nWith longing eyes, peers through the gathering night,\\nAwaiting one that never shall again\\nSoar with him grandly o er the hill and plain.\\nThen I had friends who filled my banquet hall.\\nThey drank my sparkling wine, both one and all\\nBut when they saw and knew that I might fall,\\nThey left me rudely with life s bitter gall\\nBut why repine for pleasure that is past,\\nOr sigh for earthly power that can not last,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\n28", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "While people praise us for their fame and joy,\\nErecting idols they will soon destroy\\nI wandered many years in foreign lands,\\nFrom arctic regions to bright tropic sands,\\nSeeking for perfect pleasure on the way,\\nBut never found it to the present day.\\nIn beauty s eyes, from Persia to Peru,\\nI caught love glances as they darted through\\nThe veil that cruel custom seeks to hide\\nWhat Nature gave to show with honest pride.\\nIn Florence and in Rome I looked aghast\\nAt works of art that told me of the past.\\nWhich peopled every crumbling tower and pile\\nWith royal spirits from some fairy isle.\\nThe glowing canvas and the marble bust\\nHave rescued heroes from the thickening dust\\nThat centuries of time accumulate\\nUpon the name of those who serve the state\\nBut yet, the time will come when even the great\\nAre lost within the ruins of their state.\\nAnd every glorious fame that thrilled the past\\nShall perish from the earth and die at last.\\nAh here to-day you find me old and gray,\\nA wreck where once ambition held its sway\\nWhere every romance in the soul of youth\\nCame lightly as the angel of the truth.\\nNow you are young, and like the noble pine,\\nBut sure as fate, your steps must follow mine.\\nWhile you may hear and see what I have seen,\\nYour name be mentioned in immortal green,\\nYet still remember that no power or gold\\nCan purchase an exemption to grow old.\\nOne hundred years have crowned my troubled way,\\nAnd here I crumble with my mother clay\\n29", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "I ll take a last long look at yonder sun\\nFarewell farewell My fleeting life is done\\nHe ceased, and sank into the gloom of night,\\nAnd left behind no ray of cheering light,\\nWhile all his conversation did but seem\\nThe vestige of a vain and vanished dream\\nHOW YOU FEEL.\\n[Dedicated to an honest man.]\\nThough your rusty old hat may be battered,\\nAnd your shoes all run down at the heel,\\nAnd your coat be all torn and tattered,\\nYou re as good and as great as you feel.\\nThough the rabble may sneer and upbraid you,\\nAnd still try your glory to steal,\\nThe dastards can only annoy you.\\nIf you re honest and be what you feel.\\nThough the clouds of adversity hover,\\nAnd the storms of life loudly peal.\\nHold to truth and your honor forever,\\nAnd you 11 always be just as you feel.\\nWhen the ingrates shall blighten your manhood,\\nAnd the hypocrites puncture your wheel.\\nSteer forth through the crowd and the wild wood,\\nBe noble, and be all you feel.\\nAnd when this short life is all over.\\nAt the throne of Jehovah you 11 kneel,\\nAnd feel like the bees in sweet clover,\\nIf you re only as true as you feel.\\n30", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "THE CELESTIAL CITY.\\nI dream of a city so far away\\nIn the upland realms of eternal day,\\nWhere the streets are silver and jasper and gold,\\nAnd nothing therein can ever grow old\\nBut ever is young, so happy and fair.\\nWhere pleasure is never in league with care,\\nAnd love and beauty are always there.\\nIts temples and towers are reaching high.\\nFar into the blue of a cloudless sky\\nWhere angels and seraphs are sailing around\\nWith musical waves of silvery sound\\nAnd the golden fruit of that sunny clime\\nShall blossom and ripen as long as time\\nWhere truth is eternal, and soul sublime.\\nThe billions that vanished away from the earth\\nSince this speck of matter had life and birth.\\nAre there in great glory and pristine bloom\\nTriumphant forever beyond the tomb\\nAnd all of the creatures who left this sod\\nHave passed neath the Great High Ruler s rod,\\nVictorious at last, by the grace of God\\nTHE DAY IS DONE.\\nThrough the churchyard to-day I ve been roaming,\\nWhere slumbers my darling alone\\nNow, I m watching the stars in the gloaming\\nFor one that was only mine own.\\nShe faded away in life s morning\\nAnd sought the fair isles of the blest,\\n31", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "As lovely as when summer sunsets\\nMelt all the red gold of the west\\nThe stars that are shining above me\\nAre only the jewels she wears\\nWhere er she now dwells she still loves me,\\nAnd shares in my sorrow and cares.\\nI know she is waiting to greet me\\nWhene er I may reach the bright shore\\nI know she is praying to meet me\\nWhere loved ones are parted no more.\\nHow I long to pass through the bright portal\\nAnd leave all the sadness of earth,\\nAnd dwell with the spirits immortal,\\nWhere Truth, Love, and Beauty found birth.\\nMY BELIEF.\\nI believe in God, who rules o er all,\\nAnd heed not any creeds of men;\\nI know that Father Adam s fall\\nWas conjured by old Moses pen.\\nI believe that Eve was but a myth,\\nAnd Moses but a liar\\nA Jew, with gall and gab and pith\\nA keen, falacious sire.\\nThe rib, extracted from the side\\nOf Adam in his sleep.\\nBrought sorrow to the world wide,\\nAnd caused mankind to weep.\\n82", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "The Serpent knew his business well,\\nWhen tempting Mother Eve\\nHe still is loose, in earth and hell\\nTo lie, seduce, deceive.\\nAnd yet, what would the preachers do,\\nWithout the myths of Moses\\nThey d be like ships without a crew\\nLike gardens without roses.\\nDROSS.\\nThe crystal kings of Alpine peaks\\nIn icy grandeur reign alone\\nAnd so my soul forever seeks\\nTo stand within the Great Unknown.\\nThe world to me is only dross,\\nA study of the undertone\\nFor all we gain is only loss\\nUnless we know the vast Unknown.\\nWe re only atoms on the breeze.\\nTossed and tumbled, brief and blown\\nLike withered leaves upon the trees,\\nPoor pilgrims to the dark Unknown.\\nVain are the triumphs we cherish,\\nThis life is a laugh and a groan\\nAll that we love must soon perish.\\nAnd sink to the realm Unknown.\\nThe pomp and power of the greatest\\nOnly shines for a short little day\\nThe earliest hour is the latest\\nAnd all things are flitting away\\n33", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "LIFE.\\nThis life s a shadow of the tomb,\\nA rosebud in its morning bloom,\\nA web and woof within a loom,\\nAn echo in a vacant room.\\nA dewdrop on a tender flower,\\nA moment of a flitting hour,\\nA sigh for love within a bower,\\nA raindrop of a thunder shower.\\nA leaf upon the autumn trees,\\nA mother s praj^er on bended knees,\\nLike spray upon the silver seas\\nOr buzzing of the busy bees.\\nA sunbeam on the rolling wave,\\nA moan above a lonely grave,\\nA war cry of the bright and brave\\nOr groan of an unconquered slave.\\nAn atom borne upon the air,\\nA heart surcharged with grief and care,\\nAnd shuttled onward here and there\\nMysterious matter everywhere I\\nWHAT I LOVE.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. D. I. Murphy,]\\nI love the mountains and the sea.\\nWhere nature reigns so wild and free\\nWhere all things speak to you and me,\\nOf God-given, glorious liberty.\\n34", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "I love the vales and lawns and rills,\\nThe rocks and streams, and rustic mills,\\nAnd fountains springing from the hills\\nWhose magic music soothes and thrills.\\nI love the storms that grandly rise,\\nWith rumbling thunder from the skies,\\nWith lightnings from the Great All Wise,\\nAnd rainbows with their heavenly dyes.\\nI love the roar of glorious war,\\nResounding like a rumbling car,\\nAs storms that sweep o er oceans far,\\nAnd constant as the polar star.\\nI love the lion and his might,\\nThe screaming eagle and his flight.\\nThe stars that glitter night by night\\nAnd everything that s pure and bright.\\nI love the flowers, so sweet and bright,\\nThat bloom in beauty day and night.\\nDiffusing fragrance, love, and light\\nThe emblem of eternal right.\\nI love the larks that soar and sing.\\nLike specks of sunshine on the wing;\\nAh how my spirit longs to swing\\nWhere seraph songs forever ring.\\nI love the blush on Beauty s cheek.\\nThe bright blue eyes so mild and meek\\nWhere Love is playing hide and seek,\\nLike swallows round some mountain peak.\\nI love to think, and walk alone\\nOr, like a monarch on his throne,\\n35", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "Maintain my own intense soul-tone,\\nTill I shall meet the Great Unknown.\\nI love the kind, the good, the great\\nAt home, abroad, in church, or state\\nYet, one thing I shall ever hate\\nThe sordid, dastard, vile ingrate\\nFETTEEED.\\nI work on the treadmill of life every day,\\nNot knowing where to I am bound\\nIt matters not whether I am troubled or gay,\\nI simply go round and around.\\nI eat, drink, and sleep, and I still strive for gain.\\nThat soon I must leave to another.\\nAnd only go on to the end of my chain\\nContesting with sister or brother.\\nI m fettered for life to the end of a chain.\\nAnd fastened so tightly by fate.\\nThat whether I feel any pleasure or pain\\nI 11 die either early or late.\\nThe worst and the greatest must sleep neath the sod\\nThere s nothing on earth that will stay\\nI m only a speck, and the breath of my God,\\nBut I feel that the soul can t decay.\\nSo I 11 float right along like the strain of a song.\\nAnd I 11 try to laugh down every trouble,\\nAnd be jolly and gay from day unto day.\\nWith a heart that can never play double.\\n36", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "FLITTING.\\nA short little day, at talk, work or play,\\nIs all that each mortal can cherish\\nAnd then out alone, to the darkling unknown,\\nWhere worldly memories perish.\\nAgain and again each link of our chain\\nIs broken so rudely forever,\\nAnd hearts fond and dear depart year by year\\nAcross the mysterious river.\\nA poor little life, that toddles through strife.\\nAnd wrangles from hour unto hour,\\nIs all we can claim, for glory or shame\\nFor beauty, for honor, or power.\\nThen while we are here, let s be of good cheer,\\nAnd laugh and be gay with the best\\nSo when we depart we 11 shine in each heart\\nLike sunsets that glow in the west\\nTHE PHILOSOPHER S DREAM.\\nI m weary of toiling where envy and malice\\nAre tearing down genius from day unto day\\nFar better to drink a draught from death s chalice,\\nThan mingle with midgets as callous as clay.\\nAll mean, sordid mortals I loathe with derision\\nTheir praise or their censure are nothing to me\\nI think for myself, and make up my decision.\\nAnd live in the light of my own liberty.\\n37", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "My mind is a kingdom and o er it I m reigning,\\nNo traitor can enter this princely domain\\nI soar with the muses, all vain things disdaining,\\nAnd drink from the goblets that banish all pain.\\nI long to retire to a haven eternal,\\nWhere Love, Truth, and Honor are ever in bloom\\nWhere Nature celestial is glorious and vernal.\\nAnd the soul in its beauty survives o er the tomb.\\nNATIJEE S GOD.\\n[Dedicated to Col. Robert G. Ingersoll.]\\nTell me ye stars that nightly o er me reign,\\nThe secrets of your brilliant, radiant sphere\\nAnd if your beings feel the grief and pain\\nThat mortals suffer while they linger here.\\n0, tell me if beyond the suns and stars\\nThere is a clime where earthly creatures rest\\nWhere o er the lights of Venus and red Mars,\\nI 11 bask in glory with the brave and blest.\\nI ask, and ask these questions evermore.\\nAnd no reply has yet come back to me\\nBut, in the moaning of the ocean roar,\\nI hear a whisper from eternity.\\nThe voice of Nature in her various forms\\nSpeaks to my mind a language ever true,\\nThat sounds above the summits and the storms\\nThere s someone somewhere looking out for you\\n38", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "A TRUE BILL.\\nGo wrong, and the people hear it\\nBe right, and they httle care\\nBe ever so true, they 11 talk about you,\\nAnd do it most everywhere.\\nBe strong, and the sycophants flatter\\nBe weak, and they trample you down\\nThough the world be fast, it looks on aghast,\\nAt the man who despises its frown.\\nBe ready to strike in a moment.\\nAnd blufiers will leave you alone\\nLook up in the air, defying all care.\\nAnd you may hold on to your own.\\nGo right along through the world.\\nNot caring what it may say\\nT will damn to-morrow, making you sorrow,\\nBut praise you for cash to-day.\\nBeam and smile with the Beauty;\\nGo grin and growl with the Beast\\nTo keep out of trouble, every play double.\\nBe first at the fair or the feast.\\nPretend to be bright, brave, and wealthy\\nAppearance is most of life s game\\nThe world s a fool, as a general rule,\\nYet, fools sometimes catch on to fame\\nDUPLICITY.\\nThere s little on earth but sin, sorrow and care\\nDuplicity meeting us everywhere\\nIt s found in the young, it s found in the old,\\nIt s master of those who win silver and gold.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "It s found in the churches, it s found at the bar,\\nIt s found through the world, at home, near and far,\\nAnd, go where you will, to the races or fair\\nDuplicity, surely, you 11 find ever there.\\nIt s found in the forum, it s found on the bench\\nCunning and crawling, like a cruel Judge Lynch,\\nWith smiles on her lips and beams on her brow\\nOld Dastard Duplicity cloaked with a bow\\nIt s found in the groundling, it s found in the great\\nThe trump card that s played at the helm of state\\nBeginning and ending of man s cruel wars\\nDuplicity Agent of red-handed Mars.\\nMen vainly boast of being brother to brother,\\nYet morning and night they re cheating each other.\\nFrom rising of sun to the close of the day\\nDuplicity reigns with tyrannical sway.\\nIn shop and in ofiice, in mill and in bank,\\nWhere Mammon has servants of low and high rank,\\nYou 11 find that Duplicity ever is Boss\\nTaking most of the profit and none of the loss.\\nJust look in the face of that Jesuit fraud.\\nWho has something to sell like a butcher or bawd,\\nHe 11 tickle your fancy and flatter your pride.\\nWith plastic Duplicity kept on the side.\\nMORAL.\\nThen, do not be troubled or worry your mind,\\nAbout bankers or butchers, or frauds of all kind\\nBut lay down the netting they re spreading for you.\\nAnd deal them Duplicity clear through and through.\\n40", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "DON T.\\n[Dedicated to Pessimistic Patriots.]\\nDon t be sighing, don t be crying\\nFor the pleasures that are past\\nJust keep working and keep trying,\\nAnd keep laughing to the last.\\nDon t be mumbling, don t be grumbling\\nAt the world from day to day,\\nBut keep trotting and keep tumbling\\nTo the front in every fray.\\nDon t be growling, don t be howling\\nAt the men who push along\\nHelp your comrades without scowling,\\nJoin the chorus of the song.\\nDon t be swearing, don t be fearing\\nThat the world is going to end\\nJust keep plodding, ploughing, peering,\\nAnd you 11 never want a friend.\\nDon t be lacking, don t be backing.\\nBut be sure and go ahead.\\nFor the man that s always tacking\\nIs the one that never led.\\nDon t be backward in your going,\\nDo your duty everywhere\\nIt s the man that does the hoeing\\nThat is always getting there\\n41", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "THE MORNING GLORY,\\nBeautiful morning glory,\\nTell me your sensitive story\\nWhere did you get your blush of blue,\\nYour pink and white, inlaid with rue,\\nYour ehaliced lips bedecked with dew,\\nAnd your heart so deep, so pure and true?\\nANSWER.\\nWhen the curtain of stars swung out last night\\nI was only a budding flower.\\nAnd the scorching sun gave me fearful fright,\\nAs it rolled to its western bower\\nBut zephyrs came with their balmj breath\\nAnd moistened the dews of the dawn,\\nWhen I rose again from my daily death.\\nAnd blushed in the garden and lawn.\\nLAUGH ON.\\nIt is no use to weep or worry\\nIt is better to sing and play\\nThan to always be in a hurry.\\nAnd thus rattle our lives away.\\nFor the day flies by like a shuttle.\\nAs the sable wings of the night\\nComes down with a shade so subtle.\\nLike the rooks in their twilight flight.\\nAnd the heart beats on with longing\\nFor the joys that are passed and fled.\\nWhile through memory s halls come thronging\\nThe radiant forms of our dead.\\n42", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "We know that we soon must follow,\\nSo let us be happy while here\\nAnd even if the laugh be hollow,\\nIt is better than sorrow or fear.\\nT is better to love one another\\nThan quarrel and sneer at the world,\\nFor God made us brother to brother,\\nWith banners of truth still unfurled.\\nLet us sing and dance with the brightest,\\nAnd scatter the perfume of flowers\\nFor the heaviest heart is the lightest\\nIf it cheers up the creeping hours\\nA MEMORY.\\n[Dedicated to K. L. V.]\\nIn the woodland bowers I met her,\\nWhen the May flowers were in bloom.\\nAnd I never can forget her,\\nThough she s sleeping in the tomb.\\nOn fond memory s page are shining\\nVisions of the buried past,\\nAnd my heart with grief is pining\\nI shall love her to the last.\\nHer bright spirit lingers near me\\nIn my hours of grief and pain\\nAngel whispers come to cheer me,\\nWith their sweet and tender strain.\\nYet, I know in some far Aiden\\nWe shall meet among the blest.\\nWhere no life with care is laden,\\nAnd where souls find peace and rest.\\n43", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "GONE.\\nShe faded away like the dews of morn,\\nOr the mist through the morning Hght,\\nAnd her soul now rests in a heavenly clime,\\nWhere never again shall be night.\\nShe lived for love and the beauties of earth,\\nAnd she did every good every day\\nBut never again shall we hear her voice\\nFrom the cold and impalpable clay\\nYet, while right is right and good is good,\\nThere is hope for the millions of earth.\\nWho struggle and battle along the years\\nFor a land where the soul had birth\\nTEN YEARS.\\nTen years have passed since neath the sod\\nI gave my darling to her God\\nMy eyes surcharged with tears of love\\nWhich Time will crystallize above.\\nTen years of weary, wand ring care\\nHave lashed me with their fame and fret,\\nAnd I m not happy anywhere,\\nBecause my soul can not forget.\\nHer vanished voice and golden curls\\nEntrance my troubled heart to-day,\\nWhen I behold the boys and girls\\nThat loved her when she laughed at play.\\n44", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "OLD FRIENDS.\\nHow the heart will beat responsive\\nTo the fancies of the brain,\\nWhen the dearly loved and lost ones\\nCome to visit us again\\nForms that once we fondly cherished,\\nOne by one appear in view\\nBut in all the world there s nothing\\nTo replace the lost and true.\\nNew-found friends may gather round us,\\nWhile we float on fortune s tide\\nBe they true, or be they fickle\\nNone but old friends have been tried\\nThose forid hearts that still are faithful,\\nIn our weal or in our woe,\\nAre the rarest gifts that heaven\\nIn its bounty can bestow\\nHAVE THE ROBINS COME?\\n[An actual occurrence and not a fancy.]\\nPray tell me when the robins come.\\nThey re harbingers of spring, you know\\nThe March storms seal the winter s doom\\nIts springtide mine to stay or go.\\nI ve pray d to live for that dear child\\nWho can not know what death may mean.\\nThrough life from that sweet tie exil d,\\nWhich none but child and mother dream.\\n46", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "Twin pallid lillies mount her cheeks,\\nTheir hectic signets seal hope s doom\\nFor months we ve read, but could not speak,\\nYet ev ry morning Have they come\\nOne morn when March-born winds were still d,\\nAnd straggling drifts of coffin form\\nAthwart the lawn lay white and chill d\\nSnowy graves of last night s storm\\nThe sun s warm breath and melting kiss\\nAUur d the herbage bursting near.\\nA flock of red-breasts spied the tryst,\\nAnd spread their morning banquet there.\\nThe robins and the spring are here\\nAVith muffl d steps we seek her bed.\\nA fairer spring had come to her,\\nAnd birds of Paradise instead.\\nLOVE.\\nLove and beauty ever lingers,\\nLike the blush upon the flowers,\\nSpreading hope with fairy fingers\\nThrough the darkest, loneliest hours.\\nAnd when every earthly pleasure\\nTakes its reeling lightning flight.\\nLove is still our radiant treasure,\\nLike the glittering stars of night.\\nWinter can not chill its glory.\\nIt can all the world defy.\\nAnd t will shine in song and story.\\nFor true love can never die\\n46", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS EVE.\\n[For the eye and hand of charity.]\\nPity, oh pity, her cold little feet,\\nTrudging along through the alley and street\\nWhere the night winds wander and sigh and grieve,\\nMong the flickering lights of Christmas Eve.\\nShe looks in the shops where the groups of toys\\nAre glittering bright for gay girls and boys,\\nAnd the staring eyes speak unuttered woe\\nOf the orphan child in the falling snow.\\nHer famishing heart at the baker s door\\nLongs for the goodies on counter and floor,\\nWhile the rich and the proud roll by in state\\nAnd leave the waif to her mournful fate.\\nThe clock in the tower strikes the hour of two,\\nAs the Night Watch looks at the solemn few\\nWho make their beds by the sheltering wall,\\nTo shiver and starve by the brilliant hall.\\nNow, the orphan child has gone to her rest,\\nWith tapering fingers upon her breast,\\nWhere the Christmas gifts are given with love\\nBeyond the stars, in a realm above\\nVAIN MAN.\\nVain little man, from day to day,\\nImagines that he s great,\\nAnd struts and frets his life away\\nIn home, in church and in state.\\n47", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "He knows but little here below\\nA bunch of beef and bluff\\nAn egotist for weal or woe\\nA ripper in the rough.\\nWith gilt and gold he rears his head,\\nAnd lords it spring and fall\\nAnd doesn t know until he s dead\\nThat he has lived at all.\\nT is sad t.o see these little things\\nMake monkeys of themselves,\\nWhile aping princes, dukes and kings\\nAnd consequential swells.\\nBut let them strut and fume and rave\\nIt s all they have to do\\nThey know not what t is to be brave,\\nOr lofty, pure and true.\\nThey re only fit for glare parade,\\nFor buncomb, wind and show\\nA sordid set that God has made,\\nTo prattle, prate and blow.\\nHUEEAH FOE THE BOEES!\\nHurrah for the Boers may they live long in glory,\\nAnd conquer the tyrant, so brutal and vain.\\nWho tries to destroy every vestige of freedom\\nOn mountain, and ocean, on valley and plain.\\nHurrah for the Boers who are fighting for freedom.\\nFor home, love and country, for honor and law.\\nFor ridges of gold and for valleys of diamonds,\\nThe finest and richest that man ever saw.\\n48", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "Hurrah for the Boers is the cry of the nations\\nThat worship where Liberty reigns in her might,\\nWhere Freedom still battles for truth, peace and honor,\\nAnd every proud heart beats for law, love and right.\\nHurrah for the Boers and the downfall of monarchs,\\nThe Neros of nations and curse of the world\\nMay the nineteenth century see their destru(;tion,\\nAnd their blood-reeking flags torn, tattered, and furled.\\nSHALL WE LIVE AGAIN?\\n[Dedicated to Hon. William B. Allison, U. S. Senator.]\\nI asked the hills in vernal bloom\\nTo tell me if beyond the tomb\\nThe mind of man is full and free,\\nThe heir to all eternity,\\nI asked the seas that grandly roll\\nTheir wrinkled brows from pole to pole,\\nIf far beyond their utmost shore\\nThere is a life forevermore.\\nI asked the stars that nightly shine\\nAs jewels in the crown divine,\\nIf man shall live within their sphere.\\nDevoid of all the dross that s here.\\nI asked the sun, whose heavenly light\\nShines somewhere always day and night,\\nTo tell me if the soul of man\\nExists beyond this little span.\\nThe hills and seas and stars and sun\\nMade glorious answer one by one.\\nProclaiming with a grand refrain\\nGod wills that man shall live again!\\n49", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "KISSING O ER THE BARS,\\n[A song. Dedicated to Gypsy Kroh.\\nI had a little sweetheart, her name was Jennie Lee;\\nWe met down by the brooklet, and by the waters free\\nWe clasped and kissed each other, beneath the rising stars\\nOur hearts kept tune together while kissing o er the bars.\\nAlthough the years have left me and I am old and gray,\\nI can t forget the gloaming that long since passed away\\nYet while my life is wasting and marked by many scars,\\nI m standing by the brooklet and kissing o er the bars I\\nOften in the evening when I gaze across the sea,\\nMy soul is filled with rapture for home and Jennie Lee\\nAnd though a lonely exile exposed to jolts and jars,\\nI m kissing, fondly kissing, my sweet Jennie o er the bars\\nShe left me in the morning when life was young and true\\nHer spirit shines upon me from yonder bounding blue\\nAnd though the world rebukes me with many winds and\\nwars.\\nMy heart and soul feel rapture while kissing o er the bare\\n50", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "Our hearts kept tune together while kissing o er the bars", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "GOD IS NEAR.\\n[Dedicated to Rev. David Wills, of Georgia.]\\nGod is near upon the ocean,\\nGod is near upon the land\\nHe is All, both rest and motion\\nWe are only grains of sand.\\nLittle mites upon life s billow,\\nMay-flies buzzing out the hour,\\nDreams upon a fevered pillow,\\nDewdrops on a withered flower.\\nOnly waiting for to-morrow,\\nThat has never come to man,\\nHere we live in joy and sorrow,\\nChasing phantoms as we can.\\nChasing pleasure, chasing greatness,\\nOver tangled walks and waves;\\nBut we learn the bitter lateness\\nJust before we find our graves.\\nHope is nigh with fairy fingers.\\nTracing sunbeams on the way;\\nMagic memory ever lingers.\\nBusy with the bygone day.\\nLife and death are but the portals\\nTo a realm of endless rest\\nGod is working through his mortals;\\nAll in some way shall be blessed\\nTHE EXILE.\\nIn other lands beyond the sea\\nMy thoughts will often turn to thee\\nAnd gazing o er the billows crest\\nMy heart shall travel to the west,\\nWhere lies a home, the sweetest, best.\\n53", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "Fair land of pine and oak and ash,\\nWhere sparkling streams forever dash.\\nMid mountain crags so grand and old\\nRock-ribbed with iron, silver, gold,\\nAnd fertile fields of generous mould.\\nThe friends I knew in childhood years\\nAre seen with love through smiles and tears,\\nAnd as my bounding bark departs\\nOne look, one sigh, to tender hearts\\nHow memory from my bosom starts\\nHow oft my eyes will turn in vain\\nTo see my native land again,\\nAnd as the sail departs from view,\\nI 11 peer across the ocean blue\\nTo catch one glimpse of love and you.\\nBut I am destined still to roam\\nWithout a country or a home,\\nA lonely exile bent with care,\\nA barren waste, both bleak and bare\\nNo friend to cheer me anywhere.\\nEXPANDING.\\nWe have got the Philippines,\\nAnd we re going to keep them, too\\nAnd we 11 just keep on expanding,\\nWith the Red, the White, and Blue.\\nAnd we 11 make them Territories,\\nAnd some day when the Fates\\nHave brought them out of ignorance\\nWe 11 coin them into States.\\n54", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "And we 11 get a chunk of China,\\nWhen the pie is passed around,\\nAnd shall still keep on expanding,\\nWhile we re living overground.\\nAnd we 11 civilize the heathens,\\nWith Old Glory in the van\\nShoot them into wealth and knowledge-\\nOn the European plan\\nAnd we 11 preach to them in battle\\nWith the rifle and the shell,\\nAnd if they don t surrender\\nWe will blow them all to well 1\\nWe are Agents of Jehovah,\\nAnd our Destiny is clear\\nSo we 11 spread our laws and letters\\nWithout favor, fraud or fear.\\nWith McKinley as Commander,\\nAnd his Boys behind the guns,\\nWe 11 conquer savage Tagals,\\nAnd our traitor Goths and Huns\\nAnd we 11 still go on expanding.\\nLike our Fathers from their birth.\\nTill we make one Grand Republic\\nOf this teeming, glorious earth\\nDEWEY.\\n0, Dewey, Georgie Dewey,\\nYou royal, sly old mouse,\\nWhy did you give your sweetheart\\nYour loving cup and house\\n55", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "And then to cap the dimax,\\nAnd change your sailor Hfe,\\nYou did n t ask the Public\\nTo choose ^ojLir loving wife.\\nThe first mistake you make, George,\\nYour glory will decline\\nThe rabble will accuse you\\nOf lushing foreign wine.\\nAnd if you look on woman,\\nAnd hear her siren voice.\\nThey 11 howl you to the echo\\nBecause you pick your choice.\\nBut Dewey, Georgie Dewey,\\nThe Public is a clam,\\nAnd for their fickle gabble\\nYou shouldn t give a damn.\\nThey 11 praise you in the morning.\\nAnd censure in the night.\\nAnd swear that at Manila\\nYou were not in the fight\\nGENIUS.\\n[Dedicated to Leo Wheat, of Virginia.]\\nHe thrills the heart with grand, poetic numbers,\\nAnd plucks the crown of thorns from brows of care\\nHe wakes and thinks what time the sluggard slumbers,\\nAnd scatters gems of beauty everywhere.\\nEntrancing music with voluptuous swell\\nHe casts upon the weary, mystic mind\\n56", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "Sounding as sweetly as some far-off bell,\\nEvolving hope and love for all mankind.\\nThe canvas glows beneath his magic hand\\nWith forms of grace, and grace that is divine;\\nHe pictures all the gems of sea and land,\\nSecuring to the world the superfine.\\nHis chisel carves the marble into form\\nOf bust and statue, pyramid and tower.\\nDefying ages of both sun and storm\\nTo crush the thought that thrilled him for an hour.\\nAnd yet the Genius, with his suffering soul,\\nOft wanders o er the earth misunderstood\\nBy chattering daws who never reach the goal\\nOf knowing how to do their fellows good.\\nBut when he s seen no more in field or town,\\nAnd all his mortal part lies cold and dead,\\nSome sage or city for their self-renown\\nWill give a shaft where once he needed bread\\nDECORATION POEM.\\n[Soldiers Home, Washington, D. C, May 30, 1885.]\\nWe celebrate and dedicate\\nThis day of blooming flowers\\nTo those who fell for yonder flag,\\nThat starry flag of ours\\nDefying human powers.\\n67", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "Where er we roam, this Soldiers Home\\nCan never be forgot,\\nWhile airs shall blow from Mexico\\nTo cheer our happy lot\\nAnd sing of General Scott.\\nFrom sun to sun, while ages run,\\nWe 11 sound in song and story\\nThe record of these noble men\\nAdown the aisles of glory.\\nWho fought on fields so gory.\\nI hear again, o er hill and plain.\\nThe cry and shot of battle\\nThe neighing steed, our wounded bleed,\\nThe roaring, tearing metal\\nWhere cannons loudly rattle.\\nThese mounds shall be, to all the free,\\nA shrine for loyal greeting.\\nWhere we may kneel, in woe or weal,\\nWhile happy hours are fleeting,\\nAt every May-time meeting,\\nThe wild long-roll that thrill dthe soul\\nNo more for these resounding\\nBut calm and still they top this hill.\\nWhere balmy airs are bounding.\\nAnd life is not confounding.\\nAnd memory clings where love still sings\\nAmong these sacred bowers,\\nThe livelong day in sunny May,\\nWith all its golden hours.\\nAnd cool, refreshing showers.\\n58", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "No autumn blow, nor frost, nor snow,\\nCan chill the love we cherished\\nFor men so true, who wore the blue.\\nIn life their country nourished.\\nAnd for that flag they perished.\\nTheir loyal dust shall be a trust\\nTo this devoted nation.\\nThat by their blood, on field and flood,\\nSecured a new salvation\\nAnd gained great approbation.\\nNo slave to-day pollutes our way\\nFrom ocean unto ocean.\\nBut great and free, on land and sea.\\nOur flag floats with devotion\\nSweet liberty its portion.\\nAnd o er these graves it proudly waves\\nWhere roses blush in billows,\\nAnd forest leaves break ranks to grieve\\nAbove their soldier pillows,\\nAround yon weeping willows.\\nAt Sumter hot, where shell and shot\\nTore ramparts from their mooring.\\nThese fought and fell in that red hell\\nA desperate alluring\\nFor country still enduring.\\nAt Shiloh, too, these boys in blue\\nDied for a splendid reason\\nThat faith and trust forever must,\\nIn every State and season,\\nCrush out the hosts of treason.\\n59", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "In serried lines, mid oaks and pines,\\nI see their baj onets flashing\\nThese phantom hosts and sainted ghosts\\nFor Union still are dashing\\nA rude rebellion smashing.\\nDie for a plan, the rights of man,\\nOur country, one in many,\\nWhere all are blessed, and he is best\\nThat can t be false or canny,\\nAnd will not stoop to any.\\nLet valor yield its sword and shield\\nTo patriots and free men.\\nAnd honor bright both day and night\\nCrown soldier and crown seaman,\\nAnd scatter every demon.\\nAnd now so true, the boys in blue\\nMay group in one grand rally,\\nAnd strew with love to those above\\nThe flowers from hill and valley,\\nAlong Dame Nature s alley.\\nThen as a band we 11 firmly stand,\\nDefying all creation\\nRound Northern pine and Southern vine\\nMay bloom in every station\\nA fragrant, sweet oblation.\\nLong may we live to smile and give\\nAnd feel no separation\\nBut from this sod we 11 look to God,\\nAnd join in decoration\\nOne grand, United Nation\\n60", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "A CONFEDERATE SOLDIER.\\n[To the memory of Thos. J. Luttrell.l\\nA manly man has passed away,\\nHe rests beneath the silent sod.\\nHe carried sunshine in his day,\\nAnd gave his heart and soul to God.\\nIn war and peace he was brave,\\nKept duty as his guide and chart\\nAlthough his body fills the grave.\\nHis memory lingers in the heart.\\nPeace to his ashes, rest his soul\\nNo more his smiling face we 11 see\\nHe s reached at last the final goal,\\nAnd shines within eternity.\\nTHE BATTLE OF SHILOH.\\nBands were playing, horses neighing.\\nSoldiers straying, mules were braying;\\nBanners flying, women crying.\\nHearts were sighing, many dying;\\nOnward, backward, all uproarious,\\nThe Gray victorious, the Blue was glorious.\\nThe field was won, the field was lost,\\nLike ocean billows, torn and tossed\\nAnd on the bloody beach of war,\\nWaves of dead, a giant scar\\nAnd mangled bodies torn and pale,\\nLike forests in a withering gale.\\nUp the hill and down the vale.\\nAdvance, retreat, but never fail\\nFix baj^onets, forward, guide right!\\nA shout, a yell God what a sight.\\n61", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "At them again through smoke and fire\\nFight and fall, but ne er retire.\\nOnce more to the breach, steady, strike\\nBlood, broken bones, who saw the like\\nNever forgets through the long years\\nThat call up our smiles and our tears.\\nCapture cannon, capture men.\\nCrash, smash, at them again\\nHark to the yell of Cleburne s men,\\nThey rush like demons through the glen,\\nDriving the Blue toward the river.\\nAnd many are lost forever.\\nSherman shouts lialt right about, charge\\nThen down through the brush and the gorge\\nThe Gray in turn are flying.\\nLord how the soldiers are dying.\\nMcClernand, McCook stand at bay,\\nWhile Wallace is lost on the way\\nTo the field where Prentiss surrenders\\nTo the South and its brave defenders.\\nCheatham, Withers, Gibson, and Bragg\\nStand out like a wild, rocky crag\\nAnd beat back the bold invaders\\nAt last they are crushed by the raiders.\\nThen Crittenden, Hurlbut, and Yv^ood\\nWith many brave heroes withstood\\nCharge after charge, through the rain\\nOf bullets that whizzed o er the plain.\\nWebster shouts, Park and unlimber\\nShot and shell right through the timber\\nCannons that growl like December,\\nSounds that we long shall remember,\\nShriek like the roar from a burning hell I\\nSending the foe to the rear pell-mell\\n62", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "Danger and death so fierce and hard\\nTo the halting troops of Beauregard\\nSunday s sun has gone at last,\\nRushing rains are falling fast\\nOn the faces cold as lead,\\nOn the dying and the dead.\\nBrave Sidney Johnston led the Gray,\\nBut Fate cut oflf his life that day.\\nAnd Beauregard could not repel\\nThe Union fire a blast from hell,\\nWhere cannon thundered o er the glen\\nAnd shattered horses, boys, and men.\\nThen Monday s sun arose in a gloom\\nAnd spread its clouds above this tomb,\\nWhere Grant and Buell joined to smash\\nThe stubborn Gray with one dread crash.\\nBut still the Gray declined to yield,\\nAnd fought like tigers on the field\\nTill wave on wave the boys in blue\\nRolled o er these Southern hearts so true\\nWhile Sherman over swamp and bridge\\nDashed on the gallant Breckinridge\\nThe day was won, the day was lost,\\nAnd twenty thousand told the cost.\\nWhere brothers bled and brothers died\\nA ruin with its crimson tide.\\nThat flowed for you and flowed for me\\nOn the torn banks of the Tennessee\\nThe sun goes down, the stars are set,\\nThat bloody field we can t forget\\nWhile valor holds a deathless sway\\nAnd honor crowns the Blue and Gray.\\nIt may be that the winking stars\\nContain the men who loved the bars\\n63", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "And that those gallant, noble types\\nJoin hands with those who loved the stripes.\\nBut stars and bars and red and blue\\nAnd stripes and stars wave over you\\nOur Nation fills our fame today\\nThe red is Blue and the blue is Gray\\nA thousand years of glory\\nShall immortalize our fame\\nWith a tale in song and story\\nTo keep green the hallowed name\\nOf the victor and the vanquished,\\nOn the land and on the sea,\\nA band of noble brothers\\nLed by gallant Grant and Lee.\\nAnd the tears of beaming beauty\\nShall freshen every flower\\nIn the May-time of our duty,\\nThrough the sunlit, fleeting hour.\\nThen we 11 strew the rarest roses\\nO er the graves we bless to-day,\\nAnd we 11 pluck the purest posies\\nTo enwreath the Blue and Gray.\\nAnd down the circling ages.\\nFrom the father to the son.\\nWe 11 tell on golden pages\\nHow the field was lost and won\\nAnd how a band of brothers\\nFought each other hard and true\\nTo bind the Union arches\\nO er the Gray and o er the Blue,\\nAnd reared a lasting temple\\nSo complete in eveiy plan.\\nTo justice, truth, and mercy\\nAnd the liberty of man.\\n64", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "VANITY.\\n[Dedicated to Henry T. Stantou, Kentucky.]\\nSweet thoughts that we can not repeat,\\nAnd songs that we never can sing,\\nArise in the brain but to meet\\nAnd speed Hke a bird on the wing.\\nA Hght or a flash on the wave\\nIs the Hfe that we Hve to-day\\nA memory gone to the grave,\\nOr the laugh of a child at play.\\nA glance at this world of beauty,\\nA bubble that floats on the sea\\nTo hope and to die for duty,\\nAnd sink to eternity.\\nTHE SUTLER.\\nwill a sutler be that profits may accrue. Shakespeare.\\n[Dedicated to Dick Turpin.]\\nI sing the song of the sutler,\\nWho fought in the battle of life,\\nThe song of the prize-package artist,\\nWho never got into the strife\\nNot the jubilant song of the soldier,\\nWho never forgot to lay claim\\nTo the greenbacks that stuck in the Jack Pot\\nAt the end of a winter-night game,\\nBut the song of the beautiful sutler.\\nWho traveled in sunshine and rain.\\nFor the sake of the almighty dollar\\nAnd whatever else he could gain.\\n65", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "And his youth bore no flower on its branches,\\nBut his age was a bright, sunny day\\nFor the prize that he gloriously grasped at\\nWas the cash that he carried away.\\nAnd the work that he did for the army\\nIn the rear of the soldiers was seen,\\nWhere he set up his crackers and herrings,\\nAnd the smell of the festive sardine\\nThat he sold to the boys on a credit,\\nOr the clamp of a paymaster s lease\\nAnd six boxes he gave for five dollars,\\nWhile the rest brought a dollar apiece.\\nWhile the world at large sheds a tear\\nTo the hero that may be bereft,\\nI drink to the Grand Army Sutler\\nWho never was known to get left\\nWho rushed to the front, when the camp-fires\\nLit up all the hills, without fear\\nBut at the first crack of the rifle\\nHe galloped away to the rear,\\nWith his pipes, his tobacco, and whiskey,\\nAnd his barrels of sour lager beer\\nAnd he never let up on his running\\nTill the Long Bridge appeared to his view,\\nWhere he opened up shop in his wagon,\\nAnd roped-in the gay boys in blue.\\nHow he held to his faith unseduced.\\nWith the glint of the cash in his eye\\nAnd for this great cause how he suSered\\nFor the cash, not the country, he d die\\nThen rear to the sutler a temple,\\nOf granite and brass that will stay,\\nWhere the spirit of Shylock shall hover.\\nAnd beam on the Blue and the Gray\\n66", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "Who once paid a tribute to genius,\\nWith a gall that no mortal could rule,\\nAnd a smile like a lightning-rod peddler,\\nAnd a cheek like the Grand Army Mule\\nALBION.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. John W. Daniel, United States Senator, Virginia, j\\nHurrah for old Albion, the robber of nations\\nShe murders and riots o er weakness and toil.\\nAn octopus, devilfish, seeking all stations\\nTo capture and enter, devour and despoil.\\nFrom days of King Alfred her mission of might\\nHas reddened the earth with the blood of the brave,\\nAnd those that she could not cut loose from the right,\\nShe killed them and lashed them and made them her\\nslave.\\nBut the day of her destiny rapidly goes.\\nAnd the star of her fate approaches decline\\nShe s menaced by nature, by fortune and foes\\nThe wreck of ambition, the last of her line.\\nAnd her dukes, lords and earls shall soon pass away,\\nBy force of the light that Liberty throws\\nO er rude, rotten royalty, sin and decay,\\nThe breeder and author of all human woes.\\nFor gold she has plundered the wealth of the world\\nA tyrant and bigot, the worst of our race.\\nFrom sweet, happy homes she has exiled and hurled\\nHer children, without any mercy or grace\\n67", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "DECORATION DAY POEM.\\n[Oak Hill Cemetery, May 30, 1895.]\\nGrand Home of the Dead we mourn as we tread\\nNear the forms that crumble below\\nHow sad and how still the graves on Oak Hill,\\nNeath the sunlight in bright golden glow.\\nHere s a rough, rude stone, moss-grown and alone,\\nWhere old Time has left not a trace\\nOf the name it bore in the days of yore,\\nAfter brain and body ceased race.\\nVain, vain is the thought no one ever bought\\nExemption from final decay\\nTo live and to rot, and then be forgot.\\nThe fate of the quick of to-day.\\nThe soldier and sage from age unto age\\nHave slept neath these towering trees\\nThe young and the old, the bright and the bold\\nAre sung by the breath of the breeze.\\nBrave Babcock in peace here finds his surcease\\nFrom sorrows that troubled his life\\nAnd rests with his God, beneath the green sod,\\nAway from this cold world of strife.\\nHere Reno retires from war s flaming fires\\nTo shine with immortals above.\\nAnd bivouac there, devoid of all care.\\nIn realms of infinite love.\\nHere Morris, the brave, a king of the wave.\\nDoth slumber beneath the old flag\\nHero so grand, on the famed Cumberland,\\nAnd bold as a tall mountain crag.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "While ocean shall roar on rock-beaten shore,\\nThe memory of Morris shall be\\nA great loyal light for freedom s fair fight\\nOn river, on land, and on sea.\\nAnd Stanton, the grand, stood out for this land,\\nWhen Rebellion reared up its fierce face\\nCalmly reposes neath beds of sweet roses\\nA lone hero, in war s ruin race.\\nHis great iron arm kept the Union from harm\\nWhile he smashed all the foes in its way\\nAs great Lincoln, his Chief, looked on with deep grief\\nAt the war twixt the Blue and the Gray.\\nAs years roll along, with sorrow or song.\\nHis name shall grow braver and brighter\\nA Puritan true, who knew what to do\\nWith soldiers and Grant, the great fighter.\\nHere sleeps fine Van Ness who knew no distress.\\nWhile Burns expended his gold\\nA Senator true, who b lieved in the Blue,\\nA gentleman, honest and bold.\\nGreat Lorenzo Dow, who never knew how\\nTo garnish his truth with a lie,\\nSleeps under these flowers, through May s golden hours,\\nIllumined by the sun and the sky.\\nHere Corcoran, the sage. Bishop Pinckney, broad gauge,\\nRepose under marble so white\\nThey ve gone to a land, bright, blooming, and grand,\\nWhere never, up there, is a night.\\nHere John Howard Payne sings again that refrain\\nThat thrills us wherever we roam", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "O er land or o er sea, our hearts still shall be\\nThe Mecca of dear Home, Sweet Home.\\nO er the flight of the years, with smiles or with tears,\\nThe memory of Payne shall remain\\nAnd millions unborn, in twilight and morn\\nShall sing his immortal refrain.\\nLet soldier and sage from age unto age\\nEichly have all their merit and praise\\nBut the poet will be a light for the free\\nTo the end of our last dawning days.\\nCount Bodisco sleeps here, where trees shed a tear\\nO er the grave of the Muscovite peer\\nAway from all ill, he rests on Oak Hill,\\nA memory from year unto year.\\nDick Merrick lies here, a bright, brilliant seer,\\nA lawyer of lingering renown.\\nWho fought every wrong of the cruel and strong\\nIn county or city or town.\\nHere rests the bright Blaine, in sunshine and rain,\\nWho left his imprint on the Nation,\\nA keen, brainy mind, devoted and kind,\\nWell fitted to fill a great station.\\nNo shaft marks his grave to tell traveler or slave\\nWhere that proud, loyal heart lowly lies\\nYet the tall pines of Maine sigh in sorrow for Blaine\\nAs they toss their green heads to the skies.\\nOur sweet little child, so simple and mild,\\nSleeps here under roses so fair\\nYet, soon we shall go to a clime where no woe\\nOr sighs can corrode us with care.\\n70", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "Mother and sister, sweetheart and wife,\\nRepose from their labors on earth\\nResting alone, away from all strife.\\nWhere the soul finds a happy, new birth.\\nYet the citizens dead have always been wed\\nTo Liberty, Friendship, and Truth\\nMust be honored as well as soldiers who fell\\nIn the pride of their brave, loyal youth.\\nThen, strew sweetest flowers o er the soldier\\nBut remember the citizen, too.\\nWho stood by his conscience in trouble\\nAnd supported the Gray or the Blue.\\nGod bless our grand Nation forever,\\nGod bless every heart fond and true\\nGod bless any soul that won t sever\\nThe Gray from the Red, White, and Blue!\\nKENTUCKY.\\n[Dedicated to the memory of Daniel Boone.]\\nI have known many heroes of fame.\\nMany men who were brave, bright and plucky.\\nBut I never knew any more game\\nThan those who were bred in Kentucky.\\nFor they fought the Red Coats at Orleans\\nThrough swamps that were broad, low and mucky,\\nAnd held up the Stars and Stripes\\nFor great Jackson and dear old Kentucky.\\nIt s the land of brave women and men,\\nBlue Grass and fast horses so lucky\\nAnd you 11 find there the real Upper Ten,\\nAnd Old Bourbon, the wine of Kentucky.\\n71", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS.\\n[Dedicated to Admiral Schley.]\\nThe men behind the guns\\nAre ever rough and ready\\nThey fire to wound and kill,\\nTheir aim is quick and steady.\\nThey simply know their duty\\nOn battle-field or sea,\\nBecause their hearts are centered\\nIn law and liberty.\\nThe love they bear their country\\nIs pure as prayers of nuns\\nColumbia can t be conquered\\nWhile they stand behind her guns\\nAnd when the war is over.\\nFrom rise to set of suns,\\nWe 11 cheer unto the echo\\nThe men behind the guns.\\nAVhen honors are divided\\nAnd Uncle Sam has funds.\\nHe surely must remember\\nThe men behind the guns.\\nAnd Schley shall have great honors,\\nWhen ofiicial Goths and Huns\\nAre buried with the cowards\\nThat fell before his guns\\n72", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "DECORATION DAY POEM.\\n[Delivered at Winchester, Va., May 30, 1898, under the auspices\\nof the Union Veteran Union.]\\nA beautiful scene is this valley so green,\\nShut in by its ridges and mountains\\nAn Arden it seems of a poet s bright dreams,\\nWith its fields and its crystalline fountains.\\nThe tall peaks look down upon Winchester town.\\nOld Winchester, noted in story.\\nWhose daughters are true as empyrean blue\\nAVhose sons are Virginia s great glory\\nOft Winchester stood in the midst of the flood,\\nAs a cliff meets the angry sea-surges\\nWhile death rode the blast as the grim warrior passed,\\nAnd the bells of her love tolled sad dirges\\nNo more in her streets the hostile drum beats,\\nNo longer the broken line rallies\\nA beautiful gem in a queen s diadem,\\nShe rests in the fairest of valleys.\\nWe re gathered to-day to honor the clay\\nOf heroes who fell for the nation\\nWe still deeply grieve as garlands we weave\\nTo give them a floral ovation.\\nThe tears that we shed o er dearly-loved dead\\nAre tributes we pay to their glory\\nWith hearts ever true to the boys who wore blue.\\nWho 11 live long in song and in story.\\nThey fought and they died in the battle s red tide,\\nWhose waves broke around them and o er them\\nAdvance and retreat fierce charges to meet\\nThe lines that stood sternly before them.\\n73", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "The stars and the bars stood many roug!i jars,\\nShining bright as the steel the foe carried\\nThe red, white, and blue the flag of the true\\nBlend our colors, commingled and married.\\nThus shall our flag wave, the pride of the brave,\\nThe emblem of hope and salvation.\\nUnited we stand, with hand clasped in hand.\\nTo shield this magnificent nation.\\nOn land and on seas our flag braves the breeze\\nWe re a nation of brothers united,\\nAnd naught can befall a union where all\\nWill see that each wrong shall be righted.\\nThese comrades who sleep in silence so deep,\\nIn bivouacs on hilltops eternal,\\nShall be dear to each soul while the years onward roll,\\nAnd their brave deeds shall live fresh and vernal.\\nThe fountains and rills make vocal the hills\\nWhere the wild Shenandoah is leaping\\nThey murmur sweet praise in these bright golden days\\nO er the graves where our heroes are sleeping.\\nAh, think of that day, when both Blue and Gray\\nStood the shock of the cannon s loud thunder;\\nWhen the stars and the bars on the dread field of Mars\\nWere shattered and riven asunder.\\nWe can not forget, during life s busy fret.\\nOur dead and their sacred devotion\\nThe foe we forgive, and trust all may live\\nFor Union from ocean to ocean.\\nYon blue mountain wall will ever recall\\nThose brave hearts in battle contending\\nAmericans all, whom naught could appall,\\nWhen home, love, and beauty defending.\\n74", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "And now at this day the Blue and the Gray\\nLove the flag that great Washington gave us\\nAs patriots true, the Gray and the Blue\\nWill crush every foe that dares brave us.\\nSo let brothers entwine the palmetto and pine,\\nThe palm and the laurel forever\\nThe Gray and the Blue must stand firm and true\\nIn bonds that no mortal can sever\\nGEANT S MIJSTERED OUT!\\nHalf-mast the flag, a heart brave and stout\\nSurrenders at last Grant s mustered out\\nToll the bell slowly, moisten his sod,\\nPeace to his ashes, glory to God\\nBattle and trial shall never again\\nHarrow the hero in sunshine or rain\\nGone to a land devoid of all doubt,\\nHis service is over Grant s mustered out\\nHis fame, like a light, shall shine through the years,\\nHallowed by memory and watered by tears\\nFlags that he carried shall long flap and flout,\\nA record of glory is not mustered out\\nDonelson, Shiloh, the Wilderness, too,\\nMilestones immortal with deeds of the Blue;\\nAnd this is the man that never knew rout,\\nTill fate told the world that Grant s mustered out\\nNations unborn shall visit his tomb,\\nReared by the people and lasting as doom,\\nMecca where manhood may kneel without doubt,\\nTruth everlasting is not mustered out\\n75", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "HURRAH\\n[Dedicated to Hon. Wm. E. Mason.]\\nHurrah for the Yankees on land or on sea\\nHurrah for the heroes of Grant and of Lee\\nHurrah for the Union, to eternal day\\nHurrah for the pluck of the Blue and the Gray\\nHun-ah for the House, and the Senate so true\\nHurrah for Old Glory, the Red, White and Blue\\nHurrah for the soldier who battles for right\\nHurrah for the man who strikes first in the fight\\nHurrah for the Nation hurrah once again\\nHurrah for the Yankees who 11 whip dastard Spain\\nHurrah for Columbia, the pride of the world\\nHurrah for her banner that s ever unfurled\\nMY COUNTRY.\\nMy country, may you ever be\\nA land of love and liberty\\nA land so brave, so true and strong,\\nBut still my country, right or MTong\\nMy country, let your cause be just,\\nAnd in the people you can trust.\\nWhile honor shall your fame prolong\\nMy country always, right or wrong\\nMy country, happy be your days.\\nAnd may you fill the mouths of praise.\\nAnd may you live in joy and song\\nGod bless my country, right or wrong\\n76", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "REMEMBEK THE MAINE\\n[Dedicated to Captain Sigsbee.]\\nRemember the Maine, strike first in the fight\\nClear decks for action and shoot for the right\\nThe treacherous Spaniards we 11 sink in the sea,\\nBy heroes who battled with Grant and with Lee.\\nRemember the Maine and the flag of the free\\nThat never was conquered on land or on sea\\nIts colors so brilliant, so glorious and true\\nThe hope of the world the Red, White and Blue.\\nRemember the Maine in the midst of the battle\\nStrike down to the death where black cannons rattle\\nOn ocean or mountain, on valley or plain\\nRemember forever, remember the Maine\\nOUR STARRY BANNER.\\nGo, fling our banner to the breeze\\nAvenge at once the lost ship Maine\\nAnd drive the foe from land and seas\\nThe treacherous, cruel, dastard Spain.\\nIn triumph let it wave in air,\\nWith all its patriot folds unfurled\\nIts stars and stripes still shining there.\\nThe pride and hope of all the world.\\nColumbia knows her strength and power\\nTen million men defend her shore\\nHer loyal sons from hour to hour\\nCan fight and win forevermore.\\n77", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "We know no North, we know no South\\nWe re one in heart and soul to-day\\nUnited at the cannon s mouth\\nYou 11 find the brilliant Blue and Gray.\\nTen million cheers from sea to sea\\nResound upon the ambient air,\\nProclaiming Law and Liberty\\nFor all the people everywhere.\\nf\u00c2\u00bb*\\nRAWLINS.\\n[Delivered at Arlington National Cemetery recently on the reinter-\\nment of the late General and Secretary of War John A. Rawlins.]\\nHis race is run, his work is done\\nFrom morning light to set of sun\\nHe did his duty, brave and true\\nA glorious man who wore the Blue.\\nHe held his course through rain of lead,\\nWhere fell the dying and the dead\\nAnd honor was his highest prize\\nThat jewel from the shining skies.\\nFrom Captain, and a Double Star,\\nHe rose to Minister of War,\\nAnd kept his conscience pure and clear,\\nWithout a blot, a blur or fear.\\nHe loved the State of IlUnois,\\nAnd cheered her grand heroic Boys\\nA battle line, so fierce and free\\nThe Army of the Tennessee\\n78", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "At Donaldson, and Shiloh, too,\\nHe stood with Grant, so brave and true,\\nAnd never faltered, night or day\\nTo charge upon the gallant Gray,\\nBut when the fires of war could cease\\nHe sheathed his sword and prayed for peace\\nAnd ever after did imbue\\nA love between the Gray and Blue.\\nLong may his name and memory be\\nA treasure to the brave and free,\\nWho fight on field, on hill and sea,\\nFor God, and Home, and Liberty.\\nWhile ages roll from pole to pole,\\nEach honest heart and lofty soul\\nShall keep thy record clear and bright\\nAs stars that glitter in the night.\\nThe grand old Post that bears thy name\\nFor many years shall sound thy fame,\\nAnd on each Decoration day\\nShall strew thy grave with flowers of May.\\nAnd Arlington shall ever keep\\nA guardian angel o er thy sleep\\nAnd yonder flag shall ever wave\\nIts brilliant colors o er thy grave\\nNear comrades that you loved in life,\\nWho fell amid the battle strife,\\nWhere brother s tears and brother s blood\\nFlowed freely in a crimson flood,\\nThat guaranteed from sea to sea\\nThe Union to eternity\\n79", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "THE OLD SOLDIERS.\\nOur ranks are growing thinner, every year,\\nAnd death is still a winner, every year\\nYet we still must stick together\\nLike the toughest kind of leather.\\nAnd in any kind of weather, every year.\\nOur comrades have departed, every year,\\nAnd leave us broken-hearted, every year\\nBut their spirits fondly greet us\\nAnd constantly entreat us\\nTo come that they might meet us, every year.\\nOur steps are growing slower, every year\\nPale death is still a mower, every year\\nYet we faced him in the battle,\\nAmid the musket s rattle,\\nAnd defied his final edict, every year.\\nWe are growing old and lonely, every year\\nWe have recollection only, every year\\nAnd we bled for this grand nation.\\nOn many a field and station,\\nAnd with any kind of ration, every year.\\nMany people may forget us, every year,\\nAnd our enemies may fret us, every year\\nBut, while onward we are drifting,\\nOur souls with hopes are lifting,\\nTo heavenlj scenes still shifting, every year.\\nIn the maytime of the flowers, every year,\\nWe shall live in golden hours, every year\\nAnd our deeds be sung in story\\nDown the ages growing hoary\\nWith a blaze of living glory, every year\\n80", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "INDEPENDENCE.\\n[Dedicated to Gen. Fitzhugh Lee.]\\nIndependence is our boast\\nTruth itself is still a host\\nCuba must and shall be free\\nGod is law and liberty\\nAct to-day, and not to-morrow\\nCowards end in shame and sorrow\\nTime is flitting fast away\\nForward, fight and win to-day\\nIndependence now, or death\\nFreedom to our latest breath\\nLord of Hosts be with us yet\\nFor the Maine we can t forget\\nSTANTON.\\nImmortal Stanton thy name and fame shall grow\\nWhile all our lakes and streams shall flash and flow,\\nOr while Columbia holds her onward sway,\\nAnd lifts her eyes to greet the God of day.\\nGreat Lincoln and your own strong iron arm\\nDefended this loved land from hurt and harm\\nAnd that proud flag that waves so proud in air\\nShall flash your glory while a star is there\\nAs ages come and generations go,\\nYou 11 be to us a fearless, brave Carnot,\\nWho knew, and felt his duty to the last,\\nAnd never faltered till rebellion past.\\n81", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "Green is your memory, and glorious is your grave\\nForever, over mountain crag and wave.\\nYour loyal name shall shine as pure and bright\\nAs stars that glitter in an arctic night.\\nA State, with pride, may claim your brilliant birth,\\nBut names like yours belong to all the earth\\nFor he who toils, and dies in Freedom s cause.\\nShall reign o er this great world with love and laws.\\nThe Boys in Blue, and every Union soul,\\nShall sound your praises while the centuries roll,\\nAnd honor with unfading flowers of fame\\nShall twine her tributes round your deathless name\\nTHE SOLDIER.\\n[Written for the Rank and File.]\\nWhile lauding Generals to the skies,\\nAnd standing round their sculptured form,\\nLet s not forget to recognize\\nThe rank and file who braved the storm\\nWho bared their breasts where bullets flew\\nWho fell in valley, glade and glen\\nWho died in shot-torn rags of blue\\nWho starved in loathsome prison pen\\nLet s rear a towering shaft of stone,\\nTo pierce the blue and arching sky.\\nTo some dead picket, name LTnknown,\\nWho gave our land his parting sigh\\nAnd on the top we 11 place his form.\\nTo catch eternal morning light.\\nTo stand through sunshine and through storm,\\nFor Freedom, Union, God and Right\\n82", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "UNCLE SAM.\\nUncle Sam needs more expansion\\nFor a giant of his size,\\nAnd a lofty marble mansion,\\nReaching upward to the skies\\nHis pantaloons ain t big enough,\\nHis hat is much too small,\\nHe s on a raid to get the stuff\\nI guess he 11 take it all.\\nIt s no use mincing matters\\nWhen you re out upon a raid,\\nThe game is never finished\\nTil each fellow s hand is played.\\nWe must stand by faithful Cuba,\\nAnd by Porto Rico, too\\nThe Philippines must follow,\\nAs a debt to Dewey due\\nThen with Hawaii and Canaries\\nUncle Sam can have some mirth\\nSwell and grow to vast proportions,\\nTil he owns the teeming earth\\nThen we 11 flash out dear Old Glory,\\nKeep her evermore unfurled,\\nTil the freedom that we now enjoy\\nEncircles all the world.\\nWhen every land and kingdom,\\nAnd every serf and slave,\\nShall light the torch of liberty\\nO er every clime and wave\\nAnd only men of merit\\nShall rule upon this sphere,\\nWho know but truth and justice,\\nDevoid of fraud and fear.\\n83", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "The Dukes and Kings and Princes\\nHave had their wicked ways,\\nBut sure as Truth is mighty,\\nUncle Sam shall have his days.\\nThe people can t be conquered,\\nAnd earth can t hold a slave\\nThis world was made for manhood,\\nFor the brainy and the brave.\\nTHE DEAD OF THE MAINE.\\n[Dedicated to Captain Charles D. Sigsbee.]\\nThe funeral train is passing by,\\nWith mournful, measured tread\\nA solemn dirge sounds on the air\\nIn honor of the dead.\\nNo more shall battle shouts resound,\\nFor those who once were brave\\nYet Glory weaves her brightest wreath\\nTo decorate their grave.\\nAnd loving hands and hearts shall raise\\nA shaft of lofty form,\\nTo stand while tide and time remain\\nDefying sun and storm.\\nTheir names engraven there shall be\\nTo show that not in vain\\nDied any of the heroes true\\nWho sank within the Maine.\\nTheir memory shall be cherished long\\nAs ocean waters roll,\\nAnd Fame shall sound their lasting x raise\\nOn earth, from pole to pole.\\n84", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "And those who for their country die\\nOn blood-red fields of Mars,\\nShall shine adown the coming years\\nLike central suns and stars.\\nThere Honor, in her richest garb.\\nShall come in sunny hours\\nTo place above their hallowed tomb\\nHer sweetest, rarest flowers.\\nWhile Luna with her mystic rays\\nDiff used through creeping cloud\\nShall knit for these in midnight roundvS\\nHer spirit, ghost-like shroud.\\nAnd over all, the God of Truth\\nShall reign forever more,\\nUntil the human race shall rest\\nOn yon eternal shore\\nTEAR DOWN THE FLAG\\nTear down the flag, the shining rag\\nThat would a man enslave\\nA tyrant he, on land and sea.\\nWho tramples on the brave.\\nWho would be free, on land or sea,\\nMust strike himself the blow\\nAnd though he s weak, with prospect bleak,\\nHe 11 conquer every foe.\\nHe must fight still, on vale and hill,\\nUnto his latest breath,\\nAnd strike for home across the foam.\\nFor victory or death.\\n85", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "That right we claim, for wealth or fame,\\nWe must accord to others\\nAnd if we re true, we then must do\\nSquare justice to our brothers.\\nAway with greed, and any creed\\nWithout a hope or plan\\nOn wave or crag the only flag\\nIs one that floats for man.\\nTear down the flag, the royal rag\\nThat only waves for self\\nA dastard sign, a poison vine,\\nOf wrong and power and pelf.\\nERIN.\\n[Dedicated to Robert Emmet. 1\\nOh Erin, sweet Erin, dear land of my fathers,\\nThe tyrant has long held his heel on thy breast\\nBut the day of thy bondage is fast disappearing.\\nFor a vision of hope comes out of the west.\\nWhere Liberty s children forever are blest.\\nProud Kings from their scepters and thrones soon must\\nsever,\\nAnd the millions of earth shall their own rulers be\\nThe people shall reign through their honest endeavor\\nAmid peace and plenty, from sea unto sea.\\nWho live in a land where the poorest are free.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "All lands must with Freedom to glory awaken\\nWhose songs shall re-echo from shore unto shore,\\nAnd red-handed tyrants from thrones shall be shaken\\nWho lord o er the poor and oppressed never more,\\nWhile the eagles of Liberty sail, scream and soar.\\nThe Sunburst shall shine o er the Lifiy and Shannon,\\nAnd the harp of old Tara once more thrill with joy.\\nWhen the bayonets and muskets, and loud-roaring\\ncannon\\nShall call up remembrance of famed Fontenoy,\\nAnd the treason and tyrants we fought to destroy.\\nI long for the highlands of rough Connamarra,\\nWhere the hawk and the eagle rise high on the wing\\nThe fox and the roe buck still roam mid the heather\\nWhere Liberty lingers, sweet anthems to sing.\\nAnd Freedom awakens the bard s tuneful string.\\nAnd there, near the source of some bright rolling river,\\nWhere the trout and the salmon disport in the spray,\\nLet my soul return to its master and giver\\nBeloved by the muses would I pass away,\\nTo sing through the ages of limitless day.\\nAnd when my wild numbers are drowned in death s ocean.\\nSome bard, sympathetic, may bend o er my grave\\nAnd sing a kind tribute of love and devotion\\nTo one who has worshipped the true and the brave,\\nAnd Erin still pensive beside her green wave.\\nThe day shall soon come when the grave of our hero\\nShall be marked by a stone, colossal and grand\\nWhen Albion, the bluffer and modern Nero,\\nShall be routed afar from our dear native land,\\nAnd Peace reign forever o er mountain and strand.\\n87", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "SHERMAN.\\nThe loud alarm of war is past\\nThe soldier is at rest\\nThe world no more with face aghast\\nLooks to the bleeding West\\nBut loyal hearts beat o er the land,\\nAnd glory has full sway,\\nIn this Republic, great and grand,\\nPeace reigns supreme to-day.\\nManassas, with its bloody crest,\\nShall long remain to tell\\nHow soldiers from the East and West\\nUpon the Southland fell\\nAnd where the Stars and Stripes were rent,\\nBy shot and bursting shell.\\nAs if the powers of Pluto lent\\nA hand to ring its knell.\\nThe fruitful field, where golden grain\\nIs ripening in the sun.\\nWas stricken once with leaden rain,\\nAnd victory, nobly won\\nAnd there immortal laurels bloom.\\nAbove the vernal sod.\\nWhere valor sleeps within the tomb\\nEmbosomed with its God.\\nNo more for those heroic dead\\nThe fires of love shall burn\\nYet, peaceful from their lowly bed.\\nWhen springtime shall return.\\nThe violet s empyrean blue\\nShall shine with magic glow\\nO er hearts that once beat brave and true\\nAlike for friend and foe.\\n88", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "The dread long roll no more shall call\\nThese warriors, fierce and bold,\\nTo dash in front and proudly fall,\\nAs Spartans did of old\\nBut o er their graves the Nation keeps\\nIts vigils night and day,\\nAnd Honor weeps where Valor sleeps,\\nBedecked with flowers of May.\\nThe brilliant hero that we see\\nTo-day in metal form\\nShall live in loyal memory\\nAnd be a lasting charm.\\nAnd ages yet, great Sherman s name\\nShall be a battle cry\\nOf those who guard our land from shame\\nAnd every foe defy.\\nAnd long his deeds shall shine afar.\\nO er mountain, vale, and sea,\\nAs brilliant as the morning star\\nThat all the world can see\\nAnd phantom soldiers marching on\\nShall still remain in view,\\nTo keep his memory, when we re gone^\\nAs pure as morning dew.\\nI hear again old Shiloh s roar\\nUpon that April day,\\nWhen battling by the river shore\\nThe dead and wounded lay\\nAnd all night long the gunboat s shell\\nWent shrieking through the air,\\nAs if the fires of earth and hell\\nHad concentrated there.\\n89", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "And there, too, at the Hornet s Nest,\\nThe brunt of battle broke\\nAgainst the fighting, bleeding west,\\nBeneath the aisles of oak,\\nWhen grand, brave Sherman met the flood\\nOf Johnston s dashing men,\\nWho reveled deep in human blood.\\nLike Uons in a den.\\nAtlanta and its bloody field\\nShall long remembered be,\\nWhere gallant men were forced to yield\\nRetreat down to the sea\\nWhen Sherman and his Bummer Boys\\nMarched proudly, brave and free,\\nTo capture with a nation s noise\\nThe flag of Hood and Lee.\\nFond memory, once again alive,\\nBeholds the Grand Review\\nA loyal host in Sixty-Five\\nMarch up the Avenue,\\nWhere shouts of victory rent the air\\nFrom house-top, steeple, dome,\\nTo see Old Glory still wave there\\nFor Union, love and home.\\nA thousand years of glory\\nShall honor Sherman s name,\\nWith a tale in song and story\\nTo keep green his growing fame\\nAnd down the circling ages.\\nFrom the father to the son.\\nWe 11 teach on golden pages\\nHow the fields were lost and won\\n90", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "And how a nation battled,\\nFought each other hard and true,\\nWhere cannons loudly rattled,\\nTo establish great and new\\nA temple and a tower\\nSo complete in every plan\\nTo justice, truth and power,\\nAnd the liberty of man\\nHURRAH FOR CUBA I\\nHurrah for free Cuba, the land of the sun,\\nThe home of the brave and the true\\nShe 11 fight to the death till her liberty s won\\nWith colors of red, white and blue\\nWith colors of red, white and blue\\nCHORUS.\\nHurrah Hurrah for Cuba so true\\nHurrah for the star with red, white and blue\\nHurrah Hurrah for Cuba so true\\nHurrah for the star with red, white and blue\\nHer lone star shall shine o er that beautiful isle\\nLike a gem from the heavens above,\\nAnd wave o er the Spaniards, so cruel and vile,\\nHer emblem of light and of love\\nHer emblem of light and of love\\nThen sing to the nations for Cuba and right,\\nFor honor, for home and for peace\\nDown with the Spaniard, the dastard old knight,\\nWhose reign must forever here cease\\nWhose reign must forever here cease\\n91", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "FLORA LEE.\\nA KENTUCKY MEMORY.\\n[Dedicated to Col. Will L. Visscher, January 1, 1900.]\\nMy eyes surcharged with memory s tears\\nLook back through fifty vanished years\\nAnd see again the watermill\\nThat clattered neath the rocky hill\\nWhere, as a boy, I laughed in glee,\\nWhile chasing butterfly or bee,\\nWhen sporting with sweet Flora Lee.\\nThe mill has fallen to decay\\nThe wheel has long since passed away\\nAnd none, dear Will, but you and I,\\nAre left to heave a passing sigh.\\nThe orchard on the hill is lost,\\nIts limbs and stumps are tempest tossed,\\nAnd apple blooms, so sweet and white,\\nLike thistle down, have taken flight.\\nThe barn rafters, one by one,\\nHave tumbled down, decayed and gone,\\nAnd that dear home, where I had birth,\\nHas only left a chimney hearth,\\nWhere birds and squirrels flit at play,\\nAs we did once when young and gay.\\nThe graveyard on the hill is seen,\\nBetween the glinting gray and green\\nOf autumn woods that sway and moan\\nLike some old anchorite alone,\\nWhose earthly pilgrimage is past,\\nAnd falls beneath the withering blast.\\nThe broken tombstones toppling there.\\nLike drunken topers at a fair,\\n92", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "^w-\\n^^!^i^~ ^i^^\\n:i /wu^\\ntA\\nv,^/\\n^^:^i\\nr-;?^^\\nl^ ^z7e chasing butterfly or bee", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "No more display the moss-grown name\\nOf those who toiled for wealth or fame,\\nFor father, mother, daughter, son.\\nWere naught but dust when life was done.\\nThe old log school house rots away\\nAround where once the bright and gay,\\nWith laughter, love, and childish play\\nWere happy all the live-long day.\\nThe master with his birchen rod\\nHas long since slept beneath the sod,\\nWhere verbs and nouns at last agree,\\nAnd all may solve the rule of three.\\nThe sparkling spring, where once we drank,\\nIs choked with weeds so thick and rank\\nWe scarce can see where bubbles sank\\nBeneath the sedgy, crumbling bank.\\nAnd where are all the girls and boys\\nThat once enhanced our school-day joys\\nWhere s Georgie Gill and Tony Lane,\\nAnd Kissie Wright and Bessie Blaine\\nWhere s Howard Barnes and Luther Wine,\\nAnd Laura Lindsay superfine\\nAnd Emma Gatewood, trim and tall.\\nAnd Mary Chiles and Lucy Hall\\nDear Fannie Eaglan, kind and good\\nFine specimen of womanhood\\nAnd, more than all, on land or sea,\\nWhat has become of Flora Lee\\nLong years have passed, with hope and care.\\nSince I beheld her golden hair,\\nThat floated on the summer air\\nLike streams of sunshine, rich and rare.\\nHer gracious smile and rippling curls\\nExceeded all the other girls.\\n95", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "And when her laughing voice was heard\\nT was sweeter than the song of bird,\\nEntrancing as a mystic beam,\\nOr like the echo of a dream.\\nI wonder if her lot was cast\\nTo bear the burden and the blast\\nOf those who suffer night and day,\\nAmid life s frantic, fearful fray,\\nLike you and I, who only know\\nThe sorrows of a secret woe\\nWho bleed for others while they play,\\nWith wrinkled brows and heads of gray\\nWho choke down every rising swell\\nThat makes the heart a living hell.\\nI ve spent a checkered, wandering life,\\nHave known the love of child and wife,\\nAnd warred in many a human strife,\\nBoth foot to foot, and knife to knife.\\nOr has her lot been one of flowers,\\nMade up of love and happy hours,\\nEnsconced within sweet home-like bowers\\nAnd sheltered from life s pelting showers\\nI trust where er she be to-day\\nThat loving children round her play\\nAnd if her hair be gold or gray,\\nI know her heart is light as spray\\nAnd laughing voices like her own\\nAre ringing like a tender tone,\\nAnd though long, weary years have flown,\\nA soul like hers can t be alone.\\nFor over land and stormy sea\\nI never found such glorious glee\\nAs that which bubbled fond and free\\nAVithin the heart of Flora Lee\\n96", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.\\nUnited we shall ever stand,\\nColumbia, to eternal day,\\nA noble nation, true and grand\\nThe warp is Blue, the woof is Gray.\\nAt Gettysburg, and Shiloh, too,\\nWe fought like lions brought to bay\\nThe world admired the Union Blue\\nThe world admired the Eebel Gray.\\nAnd San Juan Hill shall ever be\\nA lasting memory to the brave,\\nWhere Blue and Gray, for Liberty,\\nWere buried in one common grave.\\nAnd as the rolling years go by,\\nOn every Decoration Day,\\nWith love and tears and heartfelt sigh,\\nWe 11 honor both the Blue and Gray.\\nAnd conquered Spain now knows full well\\nThat Uncle Sam shall hold his sway\\nAgainst the powers of earth and hell,\\nWhile lasts the Loyal Blue and Gray.\\nPEACE JUBILEE.\\nPeace, with her bright white wings, spreads on the air\\nWhen pomp of war, with all its roar and blare,\\nHas vanished from the field of blood-red Mars\\nLike murky clouds before the shining stars.\\nAn angel thou, forever hold thy reign,\\nAnd save us from the shot of battle pain.\\n9i", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "Where brothers bleed, and brothers bravely die,\\nBeneath an arctic or a tropic sky.\\nLong may the Dove of Peace hold branch and vine\\nO er lands of sun and palm, and snow and pine,\\nWhile loved Columbia, from her western home,\\nGrants freedom to all men, on land and foam.\\nThe Stars and Stripes an emblem still must be\\nOf liberty and law, from sea to sea\\nAnd where it waves in any land or clime,\\nIt must remain and triumph over time.\\nThe savage shall be tamed and sent to school,\\nWe 11 teach him that he must submit to rule.\\nAnd be a man dependent on himself,\\nAnd not rely on priest or power or pelf.\\nFree Cuba and the Philippines are ours\\nAnd Destiny, exceeding earthly powers,\\nCommands us to go forward in the van\\nAnd lead the world for brotherhood of man\\nInsisting that all nations shall be free.\\nWhere equal rights, and law and liberty,\\nAnd one grand, universal Jubilee\\nOf Peace shall last unto eternity.\\nLION.\\nTHE dog s soliloquy.\\nBehold in me the image true\\nOf faith unto the end\\nI know and feel you never knew\\nA better, braver friend.\\nI could not swear, or cheat, or lie,\\nBecause I m not built that way\\nI d rather be a dog and die\\nThan be but to betray.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "THE STORM.\\nThe flash of the lightning and roar of the thunder\\nInspire all great souls with the glory of God\\nAnd thrill the proud heart with a dread, nameless wonder\\nTo witness the stroke of His glittering rod.\\nThe storm king rages like lions in battle;\\nThe wild winds are grumbling like fiends in distress\\nAnd heaven s artillery rumble and rattle,\\nWhile Nature herself seems to wail and confess.\\nGrand billows roll high on the broad, heaving ocean,\\nAnd wild birds are frantic with fear and despair;\\nWhile the moon and the stars seem to flash with emotion,\\nAnd Death rides triumphant with sorrow and care.\\nBut soon the sweet sunshine will beam o er the waters.\\nWhen Nature again shall resume her domain.\\nAnd nestle once more with earth s sons and daughters\\nO er mountains and hilltops, seas, valley, and plain.\\nTHE FIRE BELLS.\\n[Dedicated to the Firemen s Benefit, Lafayette Opera House,\\nJune 8, 1896.]\\nHark the fire bells break the hush of night.\\nFilling the air with a dread affright;\\nThe engines rattle along the street.\\nBehind the clatter of horses feet\\nAnd the people run and race and yell\\nRushing along in a wild pell mell\\nThe sky is painted with lurid dyes\\nAnd volumes of smoke and sparks arise.\\n99", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "T is there through the red hot, crumbling wall\\nThe jfireman is seen to battle and fall\\nTo fall like a warrior stanch and brave,\\nAnd sink in a seething, fiery grave\\nDoing his duty tireless and true\\nDying alone for his home and you\\nPity Oh, pity his orphan child\\nAnd his widow stricken with grief so wild.\\nWho re left alone in this world of care\\nIn their funeral garb so plain and bare\\nAnd out of your store of idle gold\\nLet Charity help with its means untold,\\nAnd over the firemen s memory raise\\nA shaft for the eyes of future days,\\nTo tell to the world that duty done\\nIs the grandest glory beneath the sun\\nZEUS.\\nHe holds the lightnings in his hands\\nHis thunderous voice rules seas and lands\\nThe mountains tremble where He stands,\\nAnd all obey when He commands.\\nHe floods the earth with heat and light\\nHe chills it with cold winter blight\\nAnd reigns forever, day and night,\\nThe Ruler of the wrong and right.\\nAnd what are we but midget men\\nEncaged within a dreary den,\\nLike sheep within a pasture pen,\\nOr thistle down on field and fen.\\n100", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "THE NIGHT.\\n[Dedicated to Dr. Charles Earl.]\\nThe day may do for this world of care,\\nFor those who battle, conquer and dare\\nBut I love the night with its shining stars,\\nThe meteor sparks that fly round mars\\nThe northern lights with their rosy dyes,\\nThat flame and flash in the midnight skies\\nThe milky way with its belt of light.\\nSpanning the heavens so pure and bright\\nWhile the moon in her full majestic sway\\nSilvers the mountains so old and gray,\\nAs she rules the tides of the ocean wild\\nA mother that masters a petulant child.\\nOh could I but sail like yon lone cloud.\\nAway from the earth and its storms so loud,\\nI d gladly glide through that upper blue\\nWhere the angels are singing so sweet and true,\\nW^here the soul shall forever its life renew\\nNIGHT AND DAY.\\nThe long and weary night is past,\\nAnd Phoebus, clad in orient beams,\\nRides o er the lofty mountain tops\\nTo light again the running streams.\\nThe birds make vocal every bough,\\nAwaking notes of love and praise\\nTo One who rules the universe,\\nAnd taught them how to tune their lays.\\n101", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "The dew still shines like diamond dust\\nOn every blade and spray and flower,\\nThe trembling tears of Nature s God,\\nThe jewels of mysterious power.\\nWhat though the moon and stars of night\\nBe emblems of a King Unknown,\\nI still revere the garish day\\nFlashed from a great eternal throne.\\nLYNCHING.\\nDid you ever feel like lynching\\nThe many or the few,\\nOr stop to think a moment\\nThat it might come home to you\\nDid you ever think of mobbing\\nYour fellow, false or true.\\nAnd then, just once, imagine\\nThat it might come home to you\\nIt s easy to accuse a man,\\nWhether white or black or blue,\\nBut don t you know, my Christian friend,\\nIt might come home to you\\nChrist himself was crucified\\nBy a rabble murder crew\\nYou might endure the fate he felt,\\nAs a Gentile or a Jew.\\nAnd if the law can t take its course\\nAnd find out what is true,\\nA lynching mob is apt to bring\\nA rope or torch to you\\n102", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "THE RAIN.\\nThe rain, the rain, the beautiful rain,\\nDescends on the grass and the golden grain,\\nRefreshing the leaves and the fading flowers,\\nSinging a song to the fleeting hours.\\nThe murmuring rain, the gentle shower\\nDrips through the trees in the woodland bower,\\nFalls on the roof and sinks to the sea.\\nWhere it waters the shores of memory.\\nWell I remember the days of old,\\nThe cottage porch, and the love she told.\\nThe rain that danced on the trailing vine.\\nAnd the beautiful hand that lay in mine.\\nThe snow and the rain of long, long years\\nHave chilled my heart with the hopes and fears\\nThat filled my soul in the long ago.\\nBefore I had learned the weight of woe.\\nHer little mound in the churchyard near\\nI deck with a flower, spray, and tear,\\nMingle my sighs with the sounding rain,\\nAnd wish for that soft white hand again.\\nA few more days of pleasure and pain\\nAnd I shall sleep neath the falling rain.\\nAnd all the living above the sod\\nMust leave their trials and go to God.\\nIt matters little to you or to me\\nWhether we die on the land or the sea\\nThe sun will shine and the rain will fall\\nAnd a generous grave will hide us all.\\n103", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "OBITUARY PATHOS.\\nOur Mary.\\nOur darling Mary s gone above\\nI m sorry that she went\\nBut angels don t wear any clothes,\\nAnd shoes don t cost a cent.\\nBY HER MA.\\nOur Johnny.\\nOur little Johnny s under ground\\nHe neither cries nor liollers\\nHe lived just forty days\\nAnd cost us eighty dollars.\\nNo more shall paregoric fret\\nHis stomach day or night\\nI m kind of glad, you bet,\\nThat Johnny s out of sight.\\nBY HIS PA.\\nOur Daisy.\\nBeneath this slab, devoid of strife,\\nLies Daisy, my impulsive wife\\nHer tongue is stilled by cruel death\\nIs silent now for want of breath.\\nOn earth her like is seldom seen\\nShe knew it all, was awful keen\\nAnd when her soul with passion stirred\\nShe would n t let me say a word.\\nBut talked by night and talked by day,\\nFor Daisy always had her way.\\nIf I by chance again could find\\nA Daisy of such manlike mind,\\nYou bet your boots and honest life\\nShe d not become my second wife\\nBY HER FAITHFUL HUSBAND.\\n104", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "Our Jim.\\nBeneath this cold, gray, sandy stone\\nJim Jackson lowly lies\\nThat s all he ever did in life\\nDear Papa was a prize\\nAnd when he staid away all night\\nHe tried the truth to dodge,\\nAnd told us, with a bland, sweet smile.\\nThat he d been at the Lodge\\nBut when he snored in mystic tone\\nWe through his pockets went,\\nAnd for the silent steps we took\\nWe did n t get a cent\\nBut in his inside pocket found.\\nIn figures plain and true,\\nTom Miller s handsome bogus check\\nAnd Johnson s I U\\nSo, stranger, drop a tear right here.\\nFor you might have been him\\nOur Darling loved Old Rye and Beer,\\nAnd that s what killed Our Jim\\nBY HIS LOVING WIFE.\\nI M LONESOME.\\nI m lonesome since I have quit drinking,\\nAnd boozing, and smoking, and such\\nBut somehow I ve got down to thinking\\nThat a little was often too much\\nAnd though I may soon be an angel,\\nAnd join all the good and the blessed,\\n105", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "I shall not forget the Fine Fellows\\nWho drank when I set up The Best\\nSo, Boys, you must sigh and forget me,\\nAnd sometimes recall o er your beers\\nThat I 11 never rebuke or revile you\\nYour Old Chum who has drank forty years\\nYet if in the future I m weary,\\nAnd need for my health gin or rum,\\nI may join the boys who are bleary,\\nAnd again be an Ass and Bum\\nPORK IN POWER.\\n[Dedicated to You Know Who,]\\nYesterday I was a seeker\\nFor office and glory and cash\\nTo-day I m a Holder, and settled,\\nAnd dine upon fresh Turkey Plash\\nYesterday he climbed the ladder,\\nThe people put up for his cheer\\nTo-day he s a big bloated bladder\\nAnd drawing Five Thousand a year\\nTo-morrow, then, he is forgotten,\\nAnd away to the Wild, Woolly West,\\nTo look like an outcast that s rotten,\\nOr a cuckoo without any nest\\n106", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "WAITING.\\nHow she waited at the window,\\nWhen my bank account ran high,\\nAnd met me in the midnight hour\\nWith a kind and loving sigh\\nAnd threw her arms around me\\nWith a sensuous, earnest fold,\\nArid promised that she d never\\nGive me up for fame or gold.\\nBut you ought to see her after,\\nWhen my cash account ran low,\\nAnd she thought that I was bankrupt,\\nBuried deep in winter snow\\nLike a coward and an ingrate,\\nThe sneaking, sordid thing\\nThrew her arms around another\\nAs she left me on the wing.\\nBut why should any noble man\\nBelieve that gold can buy\\nThe heart of any woman,\\nOr truth that can not die\\nNo the wealth that buys a woman\\nIn this, and climes above,\\nIs simple faith and modest worth,\\nAnd honest human love.\\nWHEN.\\nWhen your cash is 7) on est it is time that you test\\nThe friends that once fed at your table\\nThen you 11 very soon find you are lost to their minds,\\nThat they ve slipped from your moorings their cable.\\n107", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "When the sunshine of life shall banish all strife,\\nAnd you bloom like a rose in the dawning,\\nYou 11 be flattered and wined, be toasted and dined,\\nBy Scrubs who live only by fawning.\\nWhen Dame Fortune departs you 11 find only false hearts,\\nAnd cowards who talk of your dreaming\\nLittle sneaks of low birth crawling over the earth,\\nWhose friendship was only a seeming.\\nNever mind what they say, like the ass they must bray.\\nOr hiss like a snake or a gander\\nThey are made but to lie, crawl, grovel and die\\nPoor paupers that pelfer and pander\\nKeep your heart and your pluck and you 11 always have\\nluck,\\nLet your soul soar away to the sun\\nLet the ingrates pass by, they can never know why\\nThat you re built like a Thirteen-Inch Gun\\nA DOLLAR OR TWO.\\n[Dedicated to the Washington Elks.]\\nWith circumspect steps as w^e pick our way through\\nThis intricate world, as all other folks do,\\nMay we still on our journey be able to view\\nThe benevolent face of a dollar or two.\\nFor an excellent thing is a dollar or two\\nNo friend is so true as a dollar or two\\nIn country or town, as we pass up and down,\\nWe are cock of the walk with a dollar or two.\\n108", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "Do you wish to escape from the bachelor crew,\\nAnd a charming young innocent female to woo,\\nYou must always be ready the handsome to do,\\nAlthough it may cost you a dollar or two.\\nFor love tips his darts with a dollar or two\\nYoung affections are gained with a dollar or two\\nAnd, beyond all dispute, the best card of your suit\\nIs the eloquent chink of a dollar or two.\\nDo you wish to have friends who your bidding will do,\\nAnd help you your means to get speedily through,\\nYou 11 find them remarkably, faithfully true\\nBy the magical powers of a dollar or two.\\nFor friendship s secured by a dollar or two\\nPopularity s gained by a dollar or two\\nAnd you 11 ne er want a friend till you ve no more to lend,\\nAnd yourself need to borrow a dollar or two.\\nDo you wish in the courts of the country to sue\\nFor the rights or estate that s another man s due,\\nYour lawyer will surely remember his cue\\nWhen his palm you have crossed with a dollar or two.\\nFor a lawyer s convinced with a dollar or two;\\nAnd a jury set right with a dollar or two\\nAnd though justice is blind, yet a way you may find\\nTo open her eyes with a dollar or two.\\nIf a claim that is proved to be honestly due,\\nDepartment or Congress you d quickly put through\\nAnd the chance of its payment begins to look blue\\nYou can help it along with a dollar or two.\\nFor votes are secured by a dollar or two\\nAnd influence bought by a dollar or two\\nAnd he 11 come to grief who depends for relief\\nUpon justice not braced with a dollar or two.\\n109", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "Do you wish that the press should the decent thing do,\\nAnd give your reception a gushing review,\\nDescribing the dresses by stuff, style and hue,\\nOn the quiet, hand Jenkins a dollar or two.\\nFor the pen sells its praise for a dollar or two,\\nAnd spreads its abuse for a dollar or two\\nYet you 11 find it is easy to manage the crew\\nWhen you put up the shape of a dollar or two.\\nDo you wish your existence with faith to imbue,\\nAnd so become one of the sanctified few\\nWho enjoy a good name and a well-cushioned pew,\\nYou must freely come down with a dollar or two.\\nFor the gospel is preached for a dollar or two\\nSalvation is reached for a dollar or two\\nSins are pardoned sometimes, but the worst of all crimes\\nIs to find yourself short of a dollar or two.\\nDo you wish to get into a game with a crew\\nWho sport on the green with the red, white, and\\nblue,\\nOr a smart game of draw, where your chances are few,\\nYou must back up your talk with a dollar or two.\\nFor the dealer is fly with a dollar or two\\nAnd the banker is flush with a dollar or two\\nAnd whate er you say, they won t let you play,\\nUnless you come down with a dollar or two.\\nShould you hanker for Wall Street, as Gentile or Jew,\\nWhere the bulls and the bears wait for gudgeons\\nlike you.\\nYour pile they will measure and take into view,\\nAnd scoop, with a smile, your last dollar or two.\\nFor the bull is rampant for a dollar or two.\\nAnd the bear ever growls for a dollar or two\\n110", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "Yet I 11 say on my oath that the broker rules both,\\nAnd seldom gets left on his dollar or two.\\nDo 5 on want a snug place where there s little to do,\\nCivil service evade and its rules to break through,\\nA land bill to pass or a patent renew,\\nYou can fix the thing up for a dollar or two.\\nFor Commissioners see through a dollar or two\\nEven Congressmen wink at a dollar or two\\nAnd you need not be slow to convince friend or foe\\nOf the virtue contained in a dollar or two\\nLORD BYRON.\\n[Dedicated to James Whitcomb Riley, the Hoosier Poet.]\\nImmortal bard thy glorious, royal thought\\nSprung from thy brain Minerva-like and caught\\nThe echoes of the fleeting, rolling years\\nThat thrill the music of the sounding spheres\\nProud, independent, and still a stoic,\\nAlways grand, peculiar, and heroic\\nWho looked upon the hypocrites of earth\\nAs crawling worms, unworthy of a birth.\\nWho only left their slime upon their day,\\nWere unremembered when they passed away\\nSmall creatures who are fitted for poor pelf\\nWho live and die in concentrated self!\\nBut thou, an eagle from some Alpine peak\\nBathing its plumage in the cloud-capped foam,\\nWandering o er this world to vainly seek\\nFor truth and love, for honest heart and home.\\nBeneath Italian skies you sought for peace,\\nAnd steered your bounding bark round isles of Greece,\\n111", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "Along the shores of Oriental lands,\\nWhere billows break upon their golden sands.\\nAnd o er the desert wild you loved to roam,\\nBut never found on earth a rest or home.\\nGiaour, the Venetian, made Hassan bleed\\nAnd cleft his head upon the prancing steed,\\nAll for the love he bore sweet Lelia dead\\nWhere ocean billows broke above her head.\\nT is sweet to be revenged on dastard man\\nAnd kill a hated t3 rant when you can,\\nWho knows no law within, below, above\\nDark, brutal passion only felt for love\\nNow, see the Giaour in his death-bed trance\\nClasp lovely Lelia with his parting glance.\\nConfessed his crimes, defiant of his course,\\nAnd died without a pang or feeling of remorse\\nA lone and broken wa-eck upon the shore,\\nA brave and royal spirit evermore.\\nOne who could face the shades of death so well,\\nDefying all the powers of earth and hell.\\nThe bride of Abydos you brightly paint\\nIn colors that Old Time can never taint\\nHer love as constant as the polar star\\nThat shines o er Arctic night so fair and far\\nAnd for the youthful Selim she defied\\nA parent s terror and the world beside\\nWho pledged her happiness, her love in strife,\\nA shining rainbow in the storms of life\\nWho, when her lover, forced to die and part.\\nCould rend her soul, one sigh, a broken heart\\nZaleika from thy Cyprus mount on high\\nAbove the billow, near Hellenic sky,\\nThe bulbul and the nightingale doth sing\\nA requiem as their mighty offering\\n112", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "To one who loved not wiselj but too well,\\nThou paragon of beauty, fare thee well.\\nWithin the cell of Tasso we may find\\nTlie wreck and ruin of a brilliant mind,\\nWho loved beyond his rank and wand ring state\\nLeonora, the princess and ingrate,\\nWho, like Alphonso, the mean tyrant duke,\\nCould calmly look on wrong and not rebuke.\\nYet all the glories of the house of Este\\nHave long since vanished like a fearful pest,\\nWhile Tasso and his love-lit lines shall shine\\nAlong the rolling years, supreme, divine\\nByron, lone, proud, and friendless everywhere\\nExcept when sailing with thine own Corsair,\\nConrad, the pirate, and his queenly care.\\nThe love-lit homicide, the wild Gulnare!\\nYet, in the tower with sweet Medora dead\\nYou lay upon her breast your aching head,\\nAnd from those wild eyes tears of truth o erfiow\\nThe sparkling messenger of nameless woe.\\nBut quickly all these signs of grief depart,\\nIn helpless, hopeless, brokenness of heart\\nChilde Harold, thou licentious Don Juan,\\nYet not thyself in all that thou dost plan,\\nTo point a moral and adorn a tale\\nFor secret scoundrels, hypocrites so frail\\nWho know themselves as villains, dastard liars,\\nDreading man s detection, perdition fires\\nWho only prate and preach and never feel\\nThe glorious impulse of a grand ideal\\nAnd I have searched the quarry of thy thought\\nFor marbles rare, uncovered and unbought,\\nAnd delved into thy mind, so sad and lone,\\nTo find in depths the prisoner of Chillon,\\nlis", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "Who dungeoned, for sweet liberty and truth,\\nThe tyrant s portion for heroic youth\\nThat would not yield till all his kindred slept\\nBeneatli the prison stones where he hath wept,\\nTo hear his brothers in their clanking chains\\nDie with moaning, groans, and patient pains.\\nHomer, Shakespeare, to thee alone compare.\\nGodlike, triumvirate, grand, rich, and rare,\\nShall shine through all the ages and all time,\\nThe life of virtue and the death of crime\\nAnd, oh sweet bard, where er Augusta lies\\nAnd faithful friendship turns to thee her eyes,\\nThere, from the earth the tribute of our tears\\nShall melt like dewdrops in the coming years,\\nAnd o er your hallowed dust we 11 send a sigh\\nFor one immortal soul that can not die\\nHOPE ON.\\nDon t bother bout sneaks or sorrow,\\nThey come like the stinging briers;\\nHope on for a brighter morrow,\\nAnd keep up your vestal fires.\\nThe storms will soon be over.\\nWhen the sun shall intervene,\\nAnd the bees will sip the clover\\nWhile the daisies bloom between.\\nFor God is good in His glory,\\nAnd He knows what is always best;\\nIt is simply the old, old story,\\nThat through sorrow we find sweet rest.\\n114", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "NAPOLEON.\\nA wreck of ambition, deserted, alone,\\nHe rode o er the bones of mankind to a throne\\nMen, women, and nations were playthings to him,\\nA great goblet of blood he quafled to the brim.\\nTlie faithful of France he slaughtered for fame,\\nWhile kings were his pawns and queens were his game\\nHis conquering eagles o er Alpine snow\\nRushed down like an avalanche freighted with woe\\nThe fierce storms of old Moscow, fanning its fire,\\nCompelled the invader to turn and retire,\\nAnd leave untold thousands to die in his track\\nFor vultures to feed on and Cossacks to hack.\\nThe star of his destiny sunk out of view,\\nEclipsed in the blood of his last Waterloo\\nThen, exiled from France, his hope and his pride,\\nCaged like a lion, he fretted and died.\\nA marvelous meteor that flashed o er the wave,\\nTo darkle at last in the gloom of the grave.\\nFar better the lowest, poor peasant of France,\\nWho toils in his vineyard or joins in the dance,\\nThan all of his glory in battle array\\nThat sooner or later will vanish away.\\nPeace, virtue, and truth are the jewels of joy\\nThe hope of the world, without base alloy;\\nThe gifts of our Maker, the best on this sod.\\nThe glory of genius and tributes of God.\\nVain, vain, all the pomp of Napoleon s high pride;\\nBroken-hearted, alone, disappointed, he died,\\nAnd left to the world but the sound of his name\\nThe fool of ambition, the football of fame\\n115", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "FORWARD\\n[Dedicated to the First Regiment, District of Columbia.]\\nDeath to the Spaniard on land or on sea\\nThe reign of the robber is o er\\nColumbia, forever faithful and free,\\nShall drive him away from our shore.\\nThe eagle shall soar o er the vulture of Spain,\\nFor the blood of the noble and brave\\nCries loud from the wreck of the battleship Maine\\nAs it mourns with the wail of the wave.\\nForward Guide Right Shoot first in the fight\\nBe our banner of glor) unfurled\\nThen Liberty true, with the Red, White and Blue,\\nShall enlighten the rest of the world\\n116", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "Foi-ward Guide Right Shoot first in the fight", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "HANCOCK.\\nTo-day we proudly dedicate\\nA monument of matchless mold\\nTo this grand hero of the State,\\nWhose heart was pure as virgin gold.\\nThe victor s crown rests on his head,\\nNo more his serried columns jar\\nHe views the heroes whom he led\\nOn many a bloody field of war.\\nLong ages yet shall look upon\\nThis glorious warrior brave and true,\\nWho drew his sword in Sixty-one,\\nAnd battled for the Union Blue.\\nA Blue that never yet knew fear\\nOf foreign or domestic foe.\\nAnd with its stars from year to year\\nShall shine as centuries come and go.\\nAnd even when brass and bronze shall fade,\\nAnd granite crumbles to the dust,\\nHis deeds shall shine o er sea and glade,\\nUnsullied by corroding rust.\\nAnd while the Keystone State shall live\\nTo bind the arch that spans this land,\\nOur praise and love we 11 freely give\\nTo one so noble, pure, and grand.\\nOld Fredericksburg, the Wilderness,\\nCold Harbor with its bloody name.\\nShall still our minds and hearts impress\\nTo glorify his well-earned fame.\\nAnd Gettysburg, with all its woe,\\nShall keep his deeds as fresh and bright\\nWithin the soul of friend or foe\\nAs glittering stars in arctic night.\\n119", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "And while for freedom we shall sing,\\nWe 11 not forget our Hancock s name\\nAmong grand men a prince and king,\\nA towering crag of earthly fame\\nThe man that Spottsylvania s field\\nShall long embalm in song and story,\\nA hero who would never yield\\nA blaze of war s unfading glory.\\nAt Petersburg, through shot and shell,\\nHe held his onward, upward way,\\nWhere crater fires were belching hell\\nAnd Satan ruled the fearful day\\nWith charge on charge, he forced the foe\\nTo fly like leaves before the blast\\nT was all he knew, or cared to know\\nThe Union cause must win at last.\\nHancock, the type of manly mold.\\nShall teach to men and States unborn\\nThat liberty is our stronghold\\nFrom darkest night to brightest morn\\nThat this republic, now, as then.\\nCan stand against the world at large\\nWith leaders and with loyal men\\nTo face the fiercest, wildest charge.\\nNo slave pollutes this glorious land,\\nNo tyrant breathes our radiant air,\\nFrom shore to shore we still withstand\\nThe growling lion in his lair\\nAnd to the soldier we shall give\\nThe victor s wreath and laurel crown\\nImperial honors while we live\\nImmortal glory and renown.\\n120", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "He stooped not to the rabble crowd,\\nNor cringed before a party lash;\\nHe did his duty plain and proud,\\nA Sidney in his charge and dash\\nA mind where valor reigned alone,\\nA cavalier of God-like form\\nA bugle blast of purest tone,\\nA Bayard in the roaring storm.\\nAnd when the fires of war had ceased\\nThe Constitution was his guide\\nTo all mankind he spread a feast,\\nProclaiming peace both far and wide\\nAnd all his acts from day to day\\nWere honest, broad, and kind and true.\\nFor justice for the conquered Gray\\nAnd justice for the Boys in Blue.\\nNo monument, however great,\\nCan symbolize his word and deed\\nHe looks the soldier of the State,\\nBestride that bronze, heroic steed\\nAnd Ellicott may well be proud\\nTo gaze upon his matchless art,\\nWhile cheers and praises from the crowd\\nFind echo in his heaving heart.\\nWhile lauding Hancock to the skies,\\nAnd standing round his sculptured form,\\nLet s not forget to recognize\\nThe rank and file who braved the storm\\nWho bared their breasts where bullets flew,\\nWho fell in valley, glade, and glen\\nWho died in shot-torn rags of blue\\nWho starved in loathsome prison pen.\\n121", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "THE SOUL.\\nThe moment of birth we begin to die,\\nAnd weep and mourn, and struggle and sigh;\\nAnd toddling along through the fleeting years,\\nWe sow for the harvest of smiles or tears.\\nIt matters little, whether rich or poor,\\nEach heart and soul must its troubles endure;\\nAnd whether we live on the land or wave,\\nWe sink at last to the gloom of the grave.\\nThen while we are here let us laugh and sing,\\nWhether pauper, peasant, hero, or king.\\nAnd be kind to all that we chance to meet\\nIn the lonely dells or the crowded street.\\nThe soul shall live in some radiant sphere,\\nUnloosed from the shackles that bind it here\\nAnd though there be doubts to our latest breath\\nLet us still believe that there is no death.\\nTHE FARMER.\\nI m King of the Soil, and the point of my plough\\nWrites the record of peace for the year\\nOn the parchment of earth by the sweat of my brow\\nI toil with a jolly good cheer.\\nWhen spring comes around I m off to the field\\nAt the rise of the sun s golden ray,\\nTo labor, and trust that the harvest will yield\\nWhat I plant in the furrows to-day.\\n122", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "The roots of the peasant and bread of the Prince\\nAre products that come from my toil\\nThey d hunger and die, and forever go hence,\\nWere it not for the King of the Soil.\\nThe soldier and sailor that fights for his cause\\nAre forever dependent on me\\nWithout me they could not sustain honest laws\\nOver land, over river, or sea.\\nThen three cheers for the farmer, King of the Soil,\\nThe hero of labor and love\\nIf his rights are not recognized down here below,\\nI know they 11 be honored above\\nA CURE.\\nThere s a cure for every heartache\\nThere s a joy for every grief;\\nThere s a gain for all our losses\\nIf we only seek relief.\\nDo not sit in idle moaning,\\nBut march onward to the field,\\nWhere honor ever conquers\\nAnd the brave can never yield.\\nBe the first to meet the battle,\\nStrike while others halt and pine\\nForward with the muskets rattle\\nBe the oak and not the vine.\\n123", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "VAIN LITTLE MAN.\\n[Dedicated to puffed and pampered people.]\\nI saw him yesterday in lusty health,\\nSurrounded by the glare of pomp and power,\\nBut all the train attracted by his wealth\\nCould not insure him life one single hour.\\nTo-day I viewed him coffined and confined,\\nBorne by a cortege to the silent tomb\\nHis friends and fortune left so far behind,\\nAnd he enshrouded in the graveyard gloom.\\nTo-morrow s sun will see his fading fame,\\nAnd even the memory of his deeds shall die;\\nThe world will soon forget his lofty name,\\nAs it forgets the meteors flashing by.\\nHis glory and his strength alike have flown\\nHis life was but a writing on the sand\\nThe palace he reared strange men shall own,\\nAnd none will speak his name in all the land\\nTHE ORIGINAL TOAST.\\n[Dedicated to John L. Burkart.]\\nHere s to the man with his heart in his hand,\\nAnd the woman who will not resign\\nWho sticks to her hero on sea or on land,\\nLoves honor and flowers and wine.\\nAnd here s to the truth of an honest, square friend,\\nOn mountain, in valley, on wave,\\nWho 11 stand in adversity unto the end,\\nAnd be with his heart at your grave.\\n124", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "REST.\\nYon sunset rays with golden hue\\nEnwraps the cloud-capped stormy west,\\nYet somewhere, if I m pure and true,\\nI 11 find relief, reward, and rest.\\nI long for all that s bright and brave,\\nI hope for all that s great and blest,\\nI know that o er the lone, green grave\\nThere is celestial peace and rest.\\nI soon shall face the dread Unknown,\\nWith nerveless hands across my breast\\nA broken harp bereft of tone\\nA form of clay at perfect rest.\\nFor God is good, and right is right,\\nAnd all that s noble, kind and best.\\nShall live while stars and suns give light\\nWhere weary hearts gain blissful rest.\\nMADAME DE STAEL.\\nGrandest of women, proud, glorious and free.\\nYour fame still sounds like the roar of the sea.\\nWhen Justice and Liberty battled for right\\nYour voice was the loudest in front of the fight\\nWhen Nature and Love spread their wings on the gah\\nYour voluptuous form in triumph could sail\\nAnd over the world you still can be seen.\\nWith Delphine, German ia, and lovely Corrine,\\nAVhere power and passion are ever in view,\\nAnd the pleasures of life are inmixed with the rue.\\n125", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "Great Alpine heights, in their mantles of snow,\\nMight tell of your heart-breaks, wand rings and woe;\\nAnd Russia and Poland, and England and Rome,\\nOnce claimed the loved exile expelled from her home\\nBy Napoleon, the tyrant, who never was true.\\nAnd who ran like a poltroon from famed Waterloo,\\nAnd left to the world but the sound of his name^\\nThe fool of ambition, the football of fame\\nWEBSTER.\\n[Unveiling of Webster Statue, January 18, 1900.]\\nLike some grand crag that lifts its rugged form,\\nHe bares his beaming brow to sun and storm;\\nOr like a lofty light-house by the sea,\\nHis rays of genius flashes o er the free.\\nAt Bunker Hill his burning words shone bright\\nAnd on its summit beams of morning light\\nStill gild the monument now old and gray.\\nThat s flecked and kissed by sunset s parting ray.\\nWhile Liberty and Union bless this land,\\nInseparable, forever let us stand\\nA people and a nation without peer\\nA band of brothers, brave, devoid of fear.\\nThe statesman in the statue shines to-day,\\nA glory to the earth like yonder milky way\\nAnd down the ages, through our smiles and tears.\\nWe 11 cherish Webster for a thousand years.\\nThe Donor and the Sculptor, with our praise.\\nShall live through long and happy, cheering days\\nBut Daniel Webster, brilliant, brave and bright,\\nShall shine immortal like the stars of night.\\n126", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "THE SENATE CHAPLAIN.\\nThrough rain and hail, and sUish and snow,\\nThe Chaplain takes his way\\nAlthough he s bhnd and gray and slow,\\nHis soul is bright as day.\\nHe totters to yon marble pile,\\nBeneath that lofty dome,\\nWith heart and faith devoid of guile,\\nFor earth is not his home.\\nThere, listening sages hear his prayer,\\nPoured forth with fervent zeal,\\nTo Him who s here and everywhere\\nWhen mortals humbly kneel.\\nBlessed be the good, gray, honest head\\nThat teaches us to be\\nA people who shall ne er be led\\nBut by proud Liberty\\nWALTER M. MORELAND.\\nSweet be the flowers that bloom above his grave\\nGreen be the spot where weeping willows wave\\nAnd there the warbling birds, the whole year round,\\nShall sing his praise in liquid, mystic sound\\nAnd morning, with her warmest, brightest ray.\\nShall gild the turf that WTaps his manly clay\\nWhile sunset beams, with glowing, mellow light,\\nShall bid our noble friend Farewell Good night\\n127", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "POE.\\nMatchless, insane, volcanic child\\nA light-house in the gloom\\nA Genious, lofty, weird and wild,\\nTriumphant o er the tomb.\\nUnborn ages yet shall kneel\\nAround thy peerless light,\\nAnd other lofty minds shall feel\\nThy intellectual might.\\nA meteor flashing through the sky\\nA phantom ship at sea\\nThe sorrow of a love-felt sigh\\nFathomless and free\\nBOBBY BURNS.\\nJohn Barleycorn was always great,\\nHe lived by sudden turns,\\nAnd had a genial trotting mate\\nIn glorious Bobby Burns.\\nJohn Barleycorn was ever gay,\\nAnd generous unto sorrow\\nHe borrowed all he could to-day\\nAnd seldom paid to-morrow.\\nJohn Barleycorn will never die,\\nFor he is mighty lucky\\nHe first appeared in good Old Rye\\nAnd then in Old Kentucky.\\n128", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "WASHINGTON.\\n[Dedicated to the American soldier.]\\nWashington, greatest man of all the ages\\nWanior, statesman, strongest of the sages\\nGod-given, colossal and pure and brave\\nMatchless mortal who triumphs o er the grave.\\nWashington, Columbia knows thy deathless name,\\nPinnacled in rugged crags of lasting fame;\\nFreedom s prophet and radiant as the stars\\nThe grandest Marshal on the field of Mars.\\nWhile suns and spheres shall round us roll,\\nAnd love and truth entrance the human soul,\\nThe world will cherish what j our valor won\\nImmortal, glorious, our own Washington,\\nSTEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER.\\nSuch men as Foster never die\\nThey shine like stars in arctic sky\\nTheir laugh and song sounds through the years,\\nDispelling sorrow, pain and tears.\\nOld Uncle Ned and Swanee Ribber\\nWill linger down the years forever,\\nAnd mellow every heart and soul\\nThat s kind and true from pole to pole.\\nKentucky Home, and Old Folks, too,\\nStill brighten life like morning dew\\nAnd Massa in de Cold, Cold Ground\\nWill bring us tears with love profound.\\n129", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "The Poet s pen and mj -stic tune\\nInspire us in the midnight noon\\nFor he who writes the songs we sing\\nIs greater far than crown or king.\\nHe cares not for the sordid cause,\\nNor who invents or makes the laws\\nHe onl}^ cares to crush all wrongs,\\nAnd for his nation writes her songs.\\nWhen pomp and power shall pass away\\nThe Poet soars in deathless lay\\nAnd even when Earth is old and gray\\nHis songs shall triumph o er his clay.\\nIN THE LIBRARY.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. Ainsworth R. Spofford.]\\nIn the midst of old tomes I am thinking,\\nAs the twilight envelopes the day,\\nWhile Hesperus is blinking and winking,\\nAs the glory of Sol melts away.\\nThe shadow of Homer is near me,\\nAs it was when I once beamed a boy\\nI feel tliat his spirit now hears me\\nReciting the glories of Troy.\\nAnd Horace, and Shakespeare and Byron,\\nAnd Dante and Milton and Poe,\\nMy soul with celestials environ,\\nAs I dream of the lost long ago.\\n130", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "The masters of long vanished ages\\nIn serried battalions march by,\\nDisplaying their classical pages,\\nBright as stars in a tropical sky.\\nAnd the muses are sporting and blending\\nWhere Apollo is tuning his lyre,\\nWith Bacchus and Hebe attending\\nThe Olympian Gods and their choir.\\nO, let me forever commingle\\nWith the Gods and the Heroes of thought,\\nAnd roam in the dells and the dingle\\nWhere proud manhood has labored and fought.\\nA SOLDIER S DEATH.\\n[Dedicated to the memory of Maj. John A. Logan, killed November\\n12, 1899, Philippine Islands.]\\nLet me like a soldier die,\\nFighting foes in battle\\nFacing only Fate and sky\\nWhere cannons loudly rattle.\\nLet me like a soldier die\\nUpon the field of glory\\nLoving comrades standing by\\nWho 11 sound my name in story.\\nLet me like a soldier die\\nWhere battle yells are sounding\\nGlorious death forever nigh,\\nAnd God s own love surrounding\\n131", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "MATTIEVAN.\\nI m dreaming of my darling night and day\\nMy life with her is one sweet, perfect plan\\nHer bright eyes, like the sunshine of the May,\\nSparkle love, and whisper, Mattievan.\\nHer voice comes in the midnight lone,\\nAnd lingers at my pillow but to scan\\nA heart that beats for one sweet girl my own,\\nMy darling little sweetheart Mattievan.\\nJust see her in the waltz, so light and free\\nA jewel on the breast of any man.\\nShe may flirt with all the world, but to me\\nMy own dear little sweetheart Mattievan.\\n132", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "Just see her in the waltz, so light and free\\nA jewel on the breast of any man.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "MY LOVE.\\nMy love for thee is like the rose\\nThat blushes in the morning sun,\\nAnd turns its inmost heart to thee\\nWhen night has come and day is done.\\nMy love for thee is like the breeze\\nThat kisses every fragrant flower,\\nAnd bears away the sweet perfume\\nThat breathes for love from hour to hour.\\nMy love for thee is like the sea\\nThat sings and sounds on every shore,\\nAnd when the storms of passion rise,\\nT is then I m thine forevermore.\\nMy love is hke the sunny beams\\nThat slumber on the bounding wave,\\nImmortal as ecstatic dreams\\nThat thrill the soul beyond the grave.\\nMy love is like the twilight stars\\nReflected on a summer sea,\\nStill shining o er the bays and bars\\nThat rim the shores of memory.\\nMy love is like the mystic moon\\nThat rules the ebb and flowing tide,\\nThat in its beaming, nightly noon\\nEnwraps the ocean as a bride.\\nMy love for thee is like the fire\\nThat burns within volcanic isles\\nUndying, rising higher and higher\\nEternal in your soothing smiles\\n135", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "THE SEA.\\nHow I long to roam o er the bounding sea,\\nWhere the waters and winds are fierce and free\\nWhere the wild bird sails in his tireless flight,\\nAs the sunrise scatters the shades of night\\nWhere the porpoise and dolphin sport at play\\nIn their liquid realm of green and gray.\\nAh, me It is there I would love to be\\nEngulfed in the tomb of eternity\\nIn the midnight hour when the moon hangs low\\nAnd the stars beam forth with a mystic glow\\nWhen the mermaids float o er the rolling tide\\nAnd Neptune entangles his beaming bride\\nIt is there in that phosphorescent wave\\nI would gladly sink in an ocean grave\\nTo rise and fall with the songST)f the sea,\\nAnd live in the chant of its memory.\\nAround the world my form should sweep\\nPart of the glorious, limitless deep\\nEnmeshed by fate in some coral cave,\\nAnd rising again to the topmost wave,\\nThat curls in beauty its snowy spray\\nAnd kisses the light of the garish day\\nAh there let me drift when this life is o er,\\nTo be tossed and tumbled from shore to shore.\\nENVY.\\nCare not for the envious rabble\\nWho are only dregs and dross\\nMalice, hate and garbled gabble,\\nAre the nails upon their cross.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "Day by day they feed on slander,\\nHating those who rise and soar,\\nPauper minds that only pander\\nSordid creatures to the core.\\nToss your flowing locks above them\\nScorn their praise and sneaking ways\\nSoar beyond their fickle knowledge\\nInto happier, brighter days.\\nGod has made you like the eagle\\nProud and lonely in his flight\\nPure and brilliant, rich and regal,\\nLike the glittering stars of night.\\nLOST.\\n[Dedicated to the disappointed.]\\nWhat is a palace or home to me\\nWhen the fires of love are dead,\\nAnd the ashes of hopes are buried\\nWith the joy of the bridal bed.\\nI want no sordid, simpering thing\\nWho lives for fashion and gain,\\nWho only loves the glare of wealth\\nDeparting in trouble and pain.\\nFar better to live on a crust of bread.\\nWith the heart that is fond and true,\\nOn whose loving breast you can lay your head\\nAnd believe it is all for you.\\n137", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "SALUTATORY.\\n[On opening Lafayette Square Opera House, Washington, D. C.\\nSeptember 30, 1895.]\\nThis night we dedicate to art\\nA temple where the muse takes wing,\\nAnd where each actor plays his part\\nAs peasant, gentleman or king.\\nWe 11 try to please the public taste,\\nAnd give to all a welcome cheer,\\nAnd show that genius can be chaste,\\nAnd hold her own from year to year.\\nWe 11 play the play that most accords\\nWith virtue in her grandest flight,\\nAnd give to wrong her just rewards\\nShow up the villain day and night.\\nGreat Shakespeare shall our master be,\\nWith Hamlet, Lear, and Caesar too.\\nAnd Romeo, with his gallantry.\\nShall woo fair Juliet, fond and true.\\nOthello with his jealous love\\nAnd Richard with his cruel heart\\nOphelia, like a lonely dove.\\nShall walk these boards and play their part.\\nMidsummer Nights shall bring you peace,\\nAnd Winter s Tale shall long be told,\\nStill seeking for the Golden Fleece\\nThat roused the soul in days of old.\\nHere Shylock, for his pound of flesh.\\nShall seek the bankrupt s sinking heart.\\nEntangling in his miser mesh\\nThe man who seeks his monied mart.\\n138", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "She Stoops to Conquer shall be played\\nWith all its merry scenes and joy,\\nAnd Goldsmith s spirit shall pervade\\nThe acts and scenes without alloy.\\nDear Rip Van Winkle and Our Joe\\nShall act as one their heart-felt part,\\nAnd Schneider in his lonely woe\\nWould know the master of his heart.\\nPoor Billy Florence we shall miss,\\nNo more his Slote or Brierly cheer,\\nOr Cuttle in his bounding bliss,\\nProvoke the laugh, the sigh or tear.\\nYet other actors here shall play\\nThe parts he took in joy or strife\\nBut none, I fear, can act his way\\nAnd paint the colors true to life.\\nHere Patti, that great child of song,\\nShall thrill the heart of those who roam,\\nAnd with her magic notes prolong\\nThe glory of dear Home, Sweet Home.\\nHere Terpsichore and Thalia, true\\nTo Nature and her honest laws\\nMelpomine shall be here too.\\nAnd try to merit your applause.\\nHere merry Falstaff shall be heard,\\nWith all his acts and jokes at play,\\nAnd many minds will then be stirred\\nBy laughing lazy hours away.\\n139", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "And as the ages come and go,\\nWe 11 still display the deathless art,\\nAnd teach that in our weal or woe\\nThe fount of love is in the heart.\\nHere Lillian Russell, now, to-night,\\nWill sing De Koven s matchless airs,\\nAnd thrill the heart with scenes so bright\\nDispelling all your trials and cares.\\nGENERAL GARCIA.\\nSuch men as Garcia never die!\\nLike stars that glitter in the sky.\\nO er storms and clouds they still shine on\\nTheir glorious light is never gone.\\nBut through the circling, rolling years\\nThey win our smiles and dry our tears,\\nAnd over every land and sea\\nThey light the torch of Liberty!\\nLong shall Free Cuba love thy name;\\nIn lasting bronze prolong thy fame.\\nAnd every rock, and rill, and river,\\nShall sound the patriot s name forever.\\nMY HOME.\\nA PATHETIC SONG.\\nThough friends betray and pass away\\nWhen I shall cross the ocean foam,\\nYet to the long, eternal day,\\nI 11 claim your loving heart my home.\\n140", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "And to the sunset of my years,\\nNo matter where my footsteps roam,\\nI 11 cherish you through smiles and tears,\\nAnd b lieve your honest heart my home.\\nThrough all the struggles of my Ufe,\\nIn cot, in castle, or in dome,\\nMy soul has triumphed over strife,\\nBecause your heart is still my home.\\nLAUGHING VOICES.\\n[Dedicated to the memory of departed friends.]\\nHow the loving, laughing voices\\nOf the past come back to me,\\nAs I wander tired and lonely\\nO er life s troubled, stormy sea\\nAnd they bring me consolation\\nWhen all other joys are fled\\nFor I m dying with the living,\\nAnd I m living with the dead.\\nHow the years have scarred my features;\\nAnd the ingrates torn my heart;\\nHow the battle bayonets glisten\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWhere I played the bravest part.\\nYet those loving, laughing voices\\nSound forever in mine ear,\\nAnd thrill my soul with pleasure\\nEvery hour and day and year.\\n141", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "Tn the midnight of my sorrow.\\nFar away from friends and home,\\nI can hear those laughing voices\\nWhen in foreign lands I roam\\nAnd their faces come to gladden\\nWlien all other ones have fled\\nYes I m dying with the living,\\nAnd I m living with the dead\\nNOW AND THEN.\\nI 11 not need your loving kindness\\nWhen my head is pillowed low.\\nNor the truth and faith you gave me\\nIn the pleasant long ago\\nBut my spirit shall be near you\\nIn the night of grief and care,\\nAnd when other friends shall leave you\\nI 11 be close and nestle there.\\nI 11 not hear your loving accents\\nBreathing music sweet and low,\\nWhen the evening shadows linger,\\nAnd the clouds sift down the snow.\\nWell I know your heart will cherish\\nAll that makes my memory dear,\\nWhen the withered leaves are falling\\nIn the autumn of the year.\\nSo, before we part, my darling,\\nLet us learn this lesson true\\nThat the present is the season\\nTo caress, and dare, and do I\\n142", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "If you have a flower to give me,\\nLet me know its sweets to-day\\nPlace it not upon my coffin\\nWhen my soul has passed away.\\nSWEET LIZZIE.\\nI have wandered o er mountains and seas far apart,\\nWhere the wild winds of heaven are free,\\nBut I never saw one who so thrilled my lone heart\\nAs dear Lizzie, who loved only me.\\nCHORUS\\nO, Lizzie, sweet Lizzie, I am coming to thee\\nMy soul is afloat on the blue bounding sea.\\nLong years have gone by since we sat on the shore\\nAnd plighted our vows to the sea\\nShe has gone o er the billows, is lost evermore.\\nMy sweet Lizzie, who loved only me.\\nBut soon I shall follow my angelic bride\\nAnd clasp her in glory so free.\\nAnd sail with the surf that shines high on the tide.\\nTo bright Lizzie, who loved only me\\nFATALITY.\\n[Dedicated to Presumption, Pelf and Pride.]\\nA few more days and all this world for me\\nWill vanish like the surf upon the sea,\\nAnd yon bright sun that I behold to-day\\nShall only shine upon my pulseless clay.\\nThe flowers will never bloom again for me.\\nNor loved ones play or clamber on my knee\\n143", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "But lost to earth and every living friend,\\nMy name and fame shall reach its final end.\\nThe snows of sixty winters crown my head,\\nAnd scores of loyal, loving friends are dead\\nAnd all that s left to me is grief and care\\nNo sincere smile to greet me anywhere.\\nThe hollow-hearted world drifts along;\\nThe weak are overwhelmed by the strong;\\nAnd pampered power, entrenched with shining gold,\\nRides over right where hearts are bought and sold\\nWhile force and fraud holds secret, sinful sway,\\nAnd Mammon is the reigning God to-day\\nThe pauper, prince and peasant only feel\\nThat crime is the detection, not the steal,\\nAnd that with gold you wipe out every flaw\\nAnd purchase lawyers who can twist the law.\\nThe judge upon the bench, with solemn face.\\nIs often but a dastard and disgrace\\nAnd holds the scales of justice as of old,\\nBut tips the balance at the beck of gold.\\nThe moulders and the weavers fashion wears;\\nThe huntsmen and the statesmen lay their snares\\nTo catch the best of life where folly flies.\\nAnd cheat their victims with smooth, liquid lies.\\nThe doctor, with his powders, cups and pills,\\nWill save creation from its aching ills,\\nAnd make old things as perfect as the new\\nWith gold he 11 cure the many or the few.\\nThe preacher in the pulpit talks for pay,\\nFrom gosling green, till old and weak and gray,\\nAnd lets imagination have full sway\\nPoetic, patient, pleasant, sometimes gay.\\nNot knowing what he s doing with the crowd,\\nBut thinks he s preaching when he s talking loud\\n144", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "The farmer in the spring must plant his grain\\nAnd trusts tliat with the sun and showering rain\\nHe 11 reap a harvest great and manifold,\\nAnd fill his coffers with bright, clinking gold;\\nBut cold and heat, and bugs and vagrant flies,\\nWith storms descending from the chilling skies,\\nMake havoc of his hopes and patient care\\nAnd leaves but doubt and debt, with fields so bare.\\nThe soldier, with his power and pomp and pride,\\nSeeks lasting glory where his comrades died,\\nAnd charges on the foe to win a name\\nThat long shall glitter on the rolls of fame\\nHe cares not where he falls, on land or sea,\\nHe only craves for immortality\\nAnd waves his flag forever in the air,\\nAnd, dying, knows that it s still shining there.\\nThe sailor, too, wherever he is cast,\\nIs constant, faithful in the withering blast;\\nAnd when wild, fearful storms loudly roar\\nAgainst the jagged rocks that line the shore\\nHis heart is still undaunted to the last;\\nAnd even in death he s lashed unto the mast\\nAnd if on arctic waves or tropic seas.\\nHe never to the foe shall bend his knees\\nBut speaks through roaring guns without a brag\\nFor wife and sweetheart, country, home and flag.\\nThe patriot, the poet and the sage.\\nHave sought for glory in each circling age\\nYet even these lofty pioneers of truth\\nHave wasted hope and health and lusty youth\\nTo reap from all the flowery fields of thought\\nImmortal roses, and have found them naught\\nBut briers by the waj -sidc of to-day\\nThat bloom and sting and grow but to decay.\\n145", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "So each one in his different sphere to-day\\nIs but a mass of animated clay,\\nTo point a moral or adorn a tale,\\nFor those who now succeed, shall quickly fail\\nAnd those who rise and fall at mammon s beck\\nShall end at last a crumbling, total wreck\\nAnd even the memory of their power and name\\nShall surely vanish from the page of fame;\\nWhile tombs and towers o er the bright and brave\\nShall topple on their lone, forgotten grave;\\nThen we must know and feel that wealth and trust\\nCan t save us from becoming destined dust\\nTHE ROCKS IN THE RIVER.\\n[Dedicated to Miss Clara, recently married.]\\nAs your life glides along like the strain of a song\\nOr a smile from the lips of The Giver,\\nKeep a ward on your tongue, and fresh air in your lungs,\\nBut beware of the rocks in the river\\nYour marital boat is to-day fast afloat,\\nAnd the sunlight as blessings now quiver,\\nAnd sweet love with its cheer, shall be yours year by year,\\nYet look out for the rocks in the river!\\nSo be pure, true and just, then with Faith, Hope, and Trust,\\nYou will always retain a good liver!\\nAnd be rich, fine and kind, with a jolly good mind,\\nAnd steer over the rocks in the river\\nAnd when life is all o er, on some beautiful shore,\\nWe shall meet once again the Great Giver,\\nWhere the true man and wife, in a loftier life,\\nRow away from all rocks in the river\\n146", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "MARIE.\\nThe stars shine bright, the rivers roll along,\\nAnd life floats smoothly as a summer song;\\nThe wavelets kiss the sands upon the sea,\\nAnd in my dreams I press thy lips, Marie.\\nSweet memory with her magic charm displays\\nThe smiles and friends I loved in boyhood days\\nBut none appears so fond and fair and free\\nAs my beatific beauty, dear Marie.\\nIn all the troubles of my wand ring life,\\nIn all my sins and sorrows, grief and strife,\\nI still am cheered, on valley, mount and sea.\\nWhene er I ponder on my pure Marie.\\nAlthough another love may thrill you now,\\nAnd print warm kisses on your marble brow,\\nI think and know and feel that none like me\\nHas loved so long and true, my sweet Marie.\\nCRAPE ON THE DOOR.\\nThere s crape on the door, my heart is so sore\\nFor the beauty and love that I cherished\\nHer life it is past, like dust on the blast,\\nOr the blush on the rose that has perished.\\nThere s crape on the door alas nevermore\\nShall I gaze on her image to-morrow\\nShe s gone like a dream, my beautiful beam,\\nThat shone in my moments of sorrow.\\nThere s crape on the door, down in my heart s core\\nThere s a scar that will last o er the billow\\nOf time undefiled, till I meet my lost child,\\nAnd sleep by her side neath the willow.\\n147", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "LAWTON.\\nHe who dies for home and country\\nCan not die in vain\\nMemory of his deeds shall linger\\nDeathless is his fame.\\nBattle fame is still eternal\\nSuns and stars illume\\nLove and Truth can never perish\\nTriumphs o er the tomb.\\nLawton s fame shall live forever\\nSound his praises high\\nGrave upon the sculptured marble\\nWorth can never die\\n148", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "Lawton f! fame Khnll live forever", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "OH! HELEN!\\nOh Helen Prentice Donohue,\\nIs our father from Ma) 0\\nGod knows it matters little,\\nSo your husband is De Deyo.\\nAnd may you live a thousand years\\nWithout a tale of woe\\nIn love and peace, devoid of fear,\\nWith your Dandy Boy De Deyo.\\nMay your children in the parlor,\\nAnd your children in the street,\\nBe bright as diamonds day and night,\\nSo purty, nate, and sweet.\\nAnd when your time shall come, me love,\\nTo go Avhere all must go,\\nI hope you 11 shine in heaven above\\nWith your Darlin Duck De Deyo\\nGENIUS.\\nA Genius cares not for the crowd\\nHe walks alone the path of life,\\nAnd though the storm be long and loud.\\nHe triumphs over every strife.\\nThe laws that bind the rabble crew\\nCan not control his lofty mind\\nHe soars into the welkin blue\\nAnd leaves the crawling things behind.\\n151", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "Genius sweet nurse of great design,\\nReign o er my heart and soaring soul\\nI worsliip at thy mystic shrine,\\nAnd knowing thee, I know the whole.\\nThe canvas glows beneath thy hand,\\nThe marble breathes with human face,\\nAnd strains of music thrill the land\\nThe Muses Nine thy soul embrace.\\nDark Envy with her sneaking sneer,\\nAnd Malice with her cruel blows.\\nPursues him ever far and near\\nA shining mark for dastard foes.\\nO er seas unknown and lands afar\\nThe Genius steers his certain course,\\nWith Truth his guide and polar star\\nAnd God his only shield and source.\\nTHE HAS BEENS.\\nHow the Has Beens make me tired.\\nAs they squirm and fume and fret.\\nLike a Jackass that is mired\\nThey don t know when it s wet\\nLike Tooly Tailors groaning,\\nBecause of cruel fate,\\nThey imagine they re the People,\\nAnd the balance of the State\\nBut if they only knew it,\\nTheir howl and squeal and gas\\nIs a feeble imitation\\nOf the braying of an ass\\n152", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "Let them howl and squeal and revel\\nIt is all that they can do,\\nExcept going to the Devil,\\nWith his disappointed crew\\nHURRAH FOR DAVE HENDERSON!\\nAir.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Rally Round the Flag.\\nWe are coming, David Henderson,\\nA hundred more and strong]\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom\\nTo put you in the Speaker s chair,\\nIt will not take us long\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom.\\nCHORUS.\\nHurrah for Dave Henderson,\\nHe s one of the Boys\\nHe has captured the New Yorkers,\\nAnd votes from Illinois\\nThen we 11 rally round the Speaker,\\nRally true and strong\\nShout for the glory of our David.\\nHe is known throughout the Union\\nAs loyal, kind and true\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom\\nAnd he lost his leg in battle.\\nWhile fighting for the Blue\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom.\\nOld David slew Goliah,\\nAnd Lincoln freed the slave\\nShout in the battle crv of freedom\\n153", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "So Henderson shall conquer,\\nBecause he s bold and brave\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom.\\nAnd sure as suns and stars\\nShine brightly everywhere\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom;\\nDave Henderson is marching\\nTo take the Speaker s Chair\\nShout in the battle cry of freedom.\\nFIRST KISSES.\\nThe years have vanished with all their blisses\\nSince first I purloined your passion kisses,\\nSnatched from your lips in the tangled glen\\nAway from the haunts of cruel men;\\nAnd your bright blue eyes told of joy and pride\\nAs you sunk in my arms, trembled and sighed,\\nWhile your auburn hair fell over my face.\\nAnd your bounding breast with a tender grace\\nArose and fell through the billows of lace.\\nREMEMBRANCE.\\nAnd though many long years have passed away\\nAnd a crown of snow decks our brows to-day,\\nThe ghost of those kisses are with us yet,\\nAnd the rapture of soul we can t forget.\\nAnd if we are destined to meet no more\\nOn this troubled sphere and this sin-cursed shore,\\nI know there s a land where sweet kisses bloom.\\nAnd where never again is grief or gloom\\nAnd Love is triumphant over the tomb!\\n154", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "NORA.\\nSONG OF THE EXILE.\\nOh, Nora, my darling, awake from thy slumber\\nThe lark circles high through the dews and the sun;\\nAnd I, as an exile, must leave thee, my beauty,\\nTo wander alone until life s work is done.\\nOh, Nora, my darling, the thrush o er the heather\\nSings sweet to his mate in the greatest of glee,\\nWhile I am forlorn and weary, and banished\\nFrom country and mother, from glory and thee.\\nThe hand of the tyrant has doomed me to sever\\nThe Hnks that I love in dear Erin, my own\\nBut where er I wander, o er mountain or river,\\nMy soul and my heart shall be thine, sweet, alone.\\nColumbia invites every exile of Erin\\nTo rest neath the shade of her blossoming tree\\nOne kiss and I m gone, my Nora, my darling.\\nTo the land of the noble, the brave and the free.\\nMy country, my country, for thee I am weeping\\nThe tyrant still chains thee to grief and despair\\nYet some day you 11 rise from your ashes of sorrow\\nAnd beam like the stars that are shining Up There\\nLOVERS ONCE.\\nLovers once, but strangers now\\nYet memory points where first we met;\\nI hear again your solemn vow,\\nAnd never can that pledge forget\\n155", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "Though seas divide and oceans roar,\\nThe love that thrilled our checkered past\\nMust still be love forevermore,\\nAnd linger round us to the last.\\nThe purple vase, once filled with flowers,\\nIn broken parts may lowly lie,\\nBut love that blessed our courtship hours\\nShall live like hope and never die.\\nMisfortune may our lives pursue,\\nAnd angry pride pervade, prevail,\\nBut if your love was ever true\\nIt triumphs over every gale.\\nOur souls were never made akin\\nI soared into the boundless blue.\\nAnd well I know what might have been\\nWere you considerate, kind and true.\\nOur paths below must break apart\\nTill life exhausts its latest breath,\\nWhile each must bear a wounded heart\\nTo be cemented after death.\\nA PROPHESY.\\nA hundred 5 ears from now\\nWe 11 talk through ambient air,\\nAcross ten thousand miles of seas.\\nWithout a wire there.\\nA hundred years from now\\nThe cheery morning suns\\nWill warm our homes in winter\\nAnd cook our beef and buns.\\n156", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "A hundred years from now\\nFlotillas in the air,\\nIncludino; lightning battle ships,\\nWill fight most anywhere.\\nA hundred years from now\\nAll princes, dukes, and kings\\nShall be unknown upon the earth\\nThese vultures must take wings\\nA hundred years from now\\nThere 11 be no crown or creed,\\nBut on this sod we 11 worship God-\\nAnd truth and love shall lead.\\nA hundred years from now\\nAluminum shall be\\nThe building matter of the globe,\\nWith electricity.\\nTHE BUSYBODY.\\nThe busybody stirs about,\\nLike microbes in the air;\\nHe s seldom in and ever out,\\nTo foster grief and care.\\nThe busybody is a pest\\nWherever he is found.\\nAnd never gives you any rest\\nWhile he is over ground.\\nThe busybody is a liar.\\nAnd an arrant coward, too\\nHe stirs up passion, pain and ire,\\nAnd never can be true.\\n157", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "I often wish, but wish in vain.\\nThat that Infernal Swell\\nWould break his neck in sun or rain\\nAnd then go right to hell\\nDON T GAMBLE IN STOCKS.\\nDon t gamble in stocks have tried it myself,\\nOn many a bright rosy morn\\nDo what you may, you 11 be put on the shelf\\nCome out the small end of the horn.\\nI tackled K. T., and purchased Eiie,\\nThe morning I first got to town\\nBut now I can see my fond prophecy\\nThe one to go up went right down.\\nI then struck Lake Shore and old Baltimore,\\nThat was rated fine as pure gold\\nWith calls by the score, and margins for more,\\nI found in the end I was sold.\\nI then tried W. U., and sound C. B. Q.,\\nSold short, and went long on 0. T.\\nHad puts on TJ. P., and calls on S. E.,\\nAnd straddled the market in glee.\\nI waited to see the rise in U. P.,\\nThe long wished for bulge in O. T.\\nBut, twixt you and me, the bears made me flee,\\nAnd got all I dropped in U. P.\\nI caught a great haul at last in St. Paul.\\nAnd played it according to Hoyle,\\nWith brokers and bears, who brought all my cares\\nAnd robbed me once more in crude oil.\\n158", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "I tried wheat and lard also Grant Ward,\\nWith contracts procured on the sly\\nIn short and long gi-ain they got me again,\\nAnd profits were all in my eye.\\nI 11 say to the boys, don t court future joys,\\nAnd wish to be happy in life;\\nSo keep out to-day, let stocks run away.\\nAnd give your collat. to your wife.\\nThus take my advice without any price,\\nT will serve you in famine or fame\\nFor soon you will find, the fool s left behind\\nThat tackles another man svgame!\\nSWEET SIXTEEN.\\nO, could I stay at sweet sixteen\\nAnd have no care or sorrow,\\nWhere only love would intervene.\\nWhere sunshine cheers each morrow\\nYet I shall feel jast sweet sixteen\\nWhen I arrive at fifty,\\nAnd sport upon some flowery scene,\\nSo hearty, hale and thrifty.\\nI 11 laugh and play, and still be gay\\nAround the village green\\nAnd act when I am old and gray\\nAs if I m just sixteen\\n159", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "SHAKESPEARE.\\n[Dedicated to Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll.]\\nHail, mighty genius! Royal in thy flight;\\nBright, grand, glorious, as the stars of night;\\nA quarry for all nations to explore\\nA mine of thought now, and evermore.\\nRadiant as the hues of rainbow light,\\nLimitless as eagles in their flight\\nSpanning the earth, the sea and shining sky.\\nGodhead of all reason One All-Seeing Eye\\nDivine, with attributes so vast and lone\\nGreat, without rival, fathomless, unknown\\nSententious, seeking, soaring and sublime;\\nEssence of all knowledge, tow ring o er time,\\nGod of all ages, marvelous, minute.\\nMonarch of all men, product of all fruit.\\nA brainy ocean, where all rivers meet\\nConcentrated conscience, cloudless, complete.\\nThe fallen Wolsey and great Cfesar, too,\\nShall teach their lesson, and this thought imbue,\\nThat genius such as thine is only given\\nTo wield for every good and hope of heaven.\\nKing Lear and Hamlet stalk across the stage\\nAnd thrill the yearning soul from age to age,\\nWhile Romeo and Juliet never die,\\nBut shine eternal, in the lovelit sky.\\nWhere truth and virtue dwell forevermore\\nUpon the sands of God s celestial shore.\\nTo thee, great bard, I sing this fleeting lay\\nThe God of Knowledge, like the sun of day\\nIrradiating earth, with thoughts sublime\\nThe greatest mortal in the tides of time\\n160", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "THE PRIVATE SECRETARY.\\nOh Holy Moses, look at that\\nThe Private Secretary\\nHe wiggles like a jumping-jack\\nThe son of Bridget Gary\\nOh Man Alive, look at the lad,\\nIn momentary power\\nHe would n t even know his Dad\\nIf he d walk in this hour\\nThe cares of state rest on his pate\\nThe Senator ain t in it\\nYou could n t tamper with his dig.\\nNo, Honey, not a minute\\nBut soon the beggar Boy will go,\\nNo more a horseback racer\\nIn fact, when he is out of power\\nHe won t be even a pacer\\nTHE BRIDGE.\\nA PARODY.\\nI stood on the bridge at midnight,\\nAs the planks were rotting away,\\nAnd a light shone o er the city\\nAs the toll-bridge went to decay.\\nHow often, oh how often.\\nIn the days that had gone by,\\nI stopped at the bridge in daylight\\nAnd paid my toll with a sigh.\\n161", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "For my heart was hot and restless,\\nAnd my life was full of gall,\\nAt this crumbling relic of blackmail\\nThat must sink to a speedy fall.\\nYet whenever I cross the river\\nOn this bridge with mouldering piers.\\nThe odor of slavery stuns me,\\nAnd the darkness of vanished years I\\nTRAPPINGS OF CLAY.\\nThese trappings of clay shall moulder away\\nAnd leave not a vestige behind\\nBut Truth in its bloom shall rise o er the tomb\\nTo glorify God-given mind.\\nA very few years commingled with fears\\nAre all that each mortal can claim,\\nWith some little joy a bauble or toy\\nOne blast from the trumpet of Fame\\nAnd then we are naught, as if never brought\\nTo dance out our poor little day\\nIn a world of care, bleak, barren and bare\\nSo lonesome, and passing away.\\nBut while we are here let s join in the cheer,\\nAnd laugh with a merry good will,\\nThrow care to the wind, and ever be kind\\nTo those who are climbing the hill\\nThat points to a land, rich, blooming and grand,\\nWhere virtue shall ever be blessed.\\nAnd all who are true, whether many or few,\\nShall cease from their labors and rest.\\n16i", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "SIR MOSES MONTEFIORE.\\n[Dedicated to Hon. Simon Wolf, 1884.]\\nA hundred years of glorious life\\nHave crowned our royal hero,\\nThe best of all in Hebrew strife\\nSir Moses Montefiore.\\nA hundred years of love and truth\\nHave blessed his deep devotion\\nFor those oppressed in age or youth.\\nEnchained on land or ocean.\\nA hundred years of richest dower\\nHave made him great in beauty.\\nLike David in his Psalms of power\\nLike Solomon in duty.\\nA million years can not efface\\nThe record of the good,\\nNor blot from earth the Jewish race\\nOur ancient brotherhood.\\nAcross the seas we grasp a hand\\nThat reaches down the ages\\nStill pointing to the promised land\\nWith all its golden pages.\\nA life of love and deeds sublime\\nShall live in song and story,\\nAnd stand the test of tide and time\\nAdown the aisles of glory.\\nFor Montefiore and his line\\nWe 11 make the welkin ring,\\nAnd drink his health in living wine\\nLove s monarch, prince, and king.\\n163", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "THE WASHINGTON GIRL.\\nI m a Washington Girl,\\nAnd I live in a whirl\\nOf beauty and banter and ease\\nWith a love for mankind,\\nAnd a magical mind,\\nI study to praise and to pic\\nI m a Washington Girl,\\nWith an auburn curl,\\nAnd the light from the flash of my eyes\\nIs as true as the stars\\nThat sparkle round Mars,\\nAnd as bright as the tropical skies.\\nI m a Washington Girl,\\nAnd I live in a whirl\\nWhere the pahns and the roses entwine,\\nAnd one twist of my fan\\nCan call any man\\nTo laugh and to love o er the wine\\n164", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "Tlie Wa hivglon Girl", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "MY OLD FLAG.\\n[To the 24th Kentucky V. I., U. S. A.]\\nHow you call me back and again renew\\nThe marches and battles of Sixty-two\\nWhen your broad stripes fluttered so bright and fi-ee\\nFrom Shiloh Church to the murmuring sea I\\nThat Sabbath morning I remember well,\\nWhen bold Johnston s boys, with their rebel yell,\\nRushed on our ranks like the stormy waves\\nAnd swept your defenders to bloody graves.\\nYou rose and fell in the front of the fight,\\nWhile Sherman held every foot on the right.\\nAnd fought with his men in the wildest glee\\nOn the banks of the tearing Tennessee.\\nBut the sun went down on your shattered staff.\\nAnd your silken scars, like a maiden s laugh.\\nStill fluttered defiance so loud and free\\nFor a Nation, Kentuck, and Old Tennessee.\\nBrave Buell came up, with his loyal band.\\nIn the morning mist through that swampy land,\\nAnd rushed on the foe at the dawn of da}\\nWith the loyal blue o er the rebel gray.\\nThe sunset beams on that April day\\nBrought gloom and defeat to the daring gray\\nAnd now, to these shreds, I cling so true,\\nFor they waft me back to old Sixty-two.\\nStone River and Champion Hills might tell\\nHow you stood so fast in that smoky hell\\nAnd flapped in the winds over Knoxville town,\\nWhere the gallant gray tried to shoot you down.\\n167", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "Dalton, Resaca, and New Hope, too,\\nShattered the stars in your field of blue.\\nAnd Kennesaw lifting its brazen head,\\nPoured fire and destruction o er loyal dead.\\nAround Atlanta you fluttered a shred,\\nWhere McPherson fell with his soldier dead\\nWhen Hood like a Texas blizzard came\\nTo grasp for his cause unexpected fame.\\nHow often you fell, how often you rose,\\nLike the morning sun, over vanquished foes,\\nAnd held your way over mountain and lea\\nUntil Sherman camped by the sounding sea.\\nWASHINGTON MONTBIENT.\\nRear to the sky a monument so grand\\nThat it shall shine across this mighty land,\\nAnd while the planets in their cycles run\\nT will tell the story of great Washington.\\nThe Old Dominion claims his noble birth,\\nThis Great Republic is his home and hearth,\\nWhile every stream shall mingle with his name\\nAnd glorious battle-fields prolong his fame.\\nLexington and Concord and Bunker Hill\\nProud names that make the patriotic thrill,\\nWho fight for Liberty in any clime,\\nAnd die as martyrs down the change of time.\\nOld Monmouth, and Trenton, and Brandy wine,\\nAre links of freedom that shall ever shine\\n168", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "In chains that bind the love we all transfix\\nAround the heroes of old seventy-six,\\nSaratoga, through Arnold and through Gates,\\nWas snatched from England by the thirteen States,\\nAnd Yorktown capped the climax of our cause\\nBy stamping out the cruel British laws.\\nLong may we live to hear the tale and tell\\nHow Montgomery and his heroes fought and fell\\nUpon the frowning heights of old Quebec,\\nA sacrifice in freedom s glorious wreck\\nOld Ethan Allen, and brave Warren, too,\\nBring back the memory of the bold and true,\\nWith Stark and Wayne and Marquis Lafayette,\\nAnd Green and Steuben that we can t forget\\nYet while we praise the man who lost or won,\\nThe first in all our hearts is Washington\\nLike some grand mountain shining from afar.\\nOr like the radiance of the morning star,\\nSpreading its silver light throughout the gloom\\nThat gilds the glory of his classic tomb.\\nMount Vernon keeps his loved and sacred dust\\nAn urn of grief that holds a nation s trust.\\nWhere pilgrims bend along the waning years\\nTo gaze upon his grave through pearly tears.\\nThis monument in coming years shall stand\\nA Mecca for the brave of every land,\\nAnd while Potomac waters flash and flow\\nThe fame of Washington shall gain and grow\\nAdown the ages through the aisles of time,\\nA patriot forever in his prime\\nHe broke the chains the tyrant had entwined\\nAround the body and the fruitful mind,\\nAnd though starvation reigned at Valley Forge,\\nHe crushed at last the cohorts of King George,\\n169", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "And gave to every man the right to be\\nAn equal in a land where all are free\\nThe shafts that dot the Tiber and the Nile,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nGreat pyramids of stone, a pile on pile\\nStill glorify some queen or royal king\\nYet to our sighing hearts can only bring\\nThe march of slaves and captives in their train\\nA triumph o er the wounded and the slain.\\nNo slave pollutes our fatherland to-day\\nAround this marble pile the good can say,\\nAnd swear in truth and faith at Freedom s shrine,\\nThat we are brothers of one honest line.\\nFrom Boston town to Kichmond on the James\\nOur record shines with noble, glorious names\\nWho fought and fell for liberty and right\\nA galaxy of heroes brave and bright.\\nLet all the nations of the times and types\\nRespect our flashing flag of stars and stripes,\\nAnd come across the rolling ocean foam\\nTo make this blessed spot their hope and home,\\nWhile fair Columbia with her outstretched hands\\nInvites the good and true of foreign lands\\nTo help her build a nation free and great\\nEquality the bed-rock of the State.\\nAge after age will sweep its course away\\nThe work of man will crumble and decay\\nYet on the tide of Time, from sun to sun,\\nShall shine the glory of our Washington\\nAnd all the stars that in their orbits roll\\nAround the rushing world from pole to pole\\nShall keep his name and fame as true and bright\\nAs yonder sparkhng jewels of the night.\\n170", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THE ATTORNEY-AT~LA\\\\V.\\nAn attorn ey-at-law lately put up his shingle,\\nAnd had scarcely enough of the specie to jingle.\\nHe said to himself: I shall work long and late\\nTo find a rich will or a bankrupt estate.\\nSo he sat in his office and pnfied day by day,\\nForming rings of blue smoke that floated away,\\nWhile, with Parsons and Kent, and Blackstone and Chitty\\nHe appeared to his neighbors so wise and so witty.\\nAt length a rich miller, by name Calvin Brown,\\nIn search of a lawyer came into the town,\\nAnd spying a smoker he thought he would pin him,\\nAnd marched up the stairs to the office of Skin em.\\nGood morning, said Brown to the lord of the laws\\nI ve come to consult for the good of my cause.\\nBe seated, said Skin em I know you 11 be gainer.\\nBut first I require, now, a thousand retainer.\\nBrown stared in surprise at this heavy demand,\\nAnd said it was more than he felt he could stand\\nBut the limb of the law a glance at him flings.\\nHe puffed his cigar and went on making rings.\\nThe miller at last, like the fly in the fable,\\nWas caught in the web where, entirelj^ unable\\nTo cope with the spider that bled him so neatly,\\nHe gave up the ghost and passed off completely.\\nSkin em is now the sole administrator\\nAnd you may be sure that, sooner or later,\\nThe widow and orphans of one Calvin Brown\\nWill be out of a home and put on the town.\\n171", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "Then Skin em will shine as a brave lady-killer\\nOn plunder he filched from the honest old miller.\\nAnd the people will gaze on his rich turn-out,\\nAnd say to themselves How did this come about\\nPoor dupes you are fooled by the gauze and the glitter\\nYou begin with the sweet and end with the bitter\\nAnd fellows like Skin em lay ever in wait\\nTo pounce on the bones of a crumbling estate.\\nThus the law, you must know, is made for the rich.\\nAnd the poor, as of old, are left in the ditch\\nNo matter what rights you may have to maintain,\\nYou 11 lose in the end should you dare to retain.\\nNow take my advice and keep out of the law\\nFor, once in the toils of its ravenous maw.\\nYou are sure to be plucked without mercy or grace\\nAnd come out the last at the end of the race.\\nWYOMING VALLEY.\\n[Wilkesbarre, Pa., May, 1885.]\\nFrom Prospect Pock I see afar\\nWyoming Valley, green and free.\\nStill sparkling like the morning star\\nFor labor and for liberty.\\nThe Susquehanna rolls along\\nIn rippling beauty through the hills,\\nResounding with a forest song\\nAnd laughing, brawling, shining rills.\\n172", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "The hum of labor fills the air,\\nThe panting engine sweeps around\\nThe upland slopes, and everywhere\\nWe wander o er historic ground.\\nYon island blooms within a vale\\nWhere crystal waters kiss the flowers,\\nAnd every sound that fills the gale\\nEesponds unto the golden hours.\\nEound rolling ridges, bold and high,\\nThe fragrant flowers of blooming May\\nExhale their perfume to the sky\\nAnd give to all a perfect day.\\nWhere sun and stream, and brook and hill\\nCommingle to entrance the scene.\\nAnd heart and soul with rapture fill\\nThe life and love that lie between.\\nWEDDING BELLS.\\n[Katie s tribute, May 13, 1879.]\\nRing out, glad bells ring out, I say\\nThis is the Golden Wedding Day\\nRing happy chimes to bring those near\\nWho love the homestead fond and dear.\\nRing loud ring strong to bring the throng\\nOf all who to this home belong\\nBring here the happy and the sad,\\nFor each w-ill make these fond hearts glad.\\nRing ring I say that far away\\nLoved ones will hear what t is you say\\n173", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "Ring once again to guide them here,\\nTo smile upon this golden cheer.\\nRing fifty strokes in golden tone\\nFor work of fifty years well done\\nRing fifty strokes Each stroke attest,\\nFather, mother, each were best.\\nRing for the past, the future too,\\nTo pledges we this day renew\\nRing for our father, mother dear,\\nWe pledge them with atfection s tear.\\nTHERE S NO POCKET IN A SHROUD\\n[On the death of a millionaire.]\\nYou must leave your many millionf-\\nAnd the gay and festive crowd\\nThough you roll in royal billions.\\nThere s no pocket in a shroud.\\nWhether pauper, prince or peasant\\nWhether rich or poor or proud\\nRemember that there is n t\\nAny pocket in a shroud.\\nYou 11 have all this world of glory\\nWith a record long and loud,\\nAnd a name in song and story,\\nBut no pocket in your shroud.\\nSo be gen rous with your riches.\\nNeither vain, nor cold, nor proud.\\nAnd you 11 gain the golden niches\\nIn a clime without a cloud\\n174", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE WHISPERING TREES.\\nOh, the whispering trees, what tales they tell\\nOf a hundred j ears ago,\\nHow they sprung from the secret acorn shell,\\nNear the homestead sweet and low.\\nThe father and mother have gone to rest,\\nBut the childish glee of yore\\nStill sounds and sings with a rollicking jest,\\nRound palace and cottage door.\\nThe boy and the girl, the woman and man,\\nHave come and gone like a dream,\\nBut the trees that have more than human plan.\\nTattle their tale to the stream.\\nA tongue in each leaf, a voice in each limb,\\nTells me the old, old story\\nThat fond love and truth are always with Him,\\nGreat in His power and glory.\\nThen whisper away in the summer time,\\nSing the song of creation,\\nThe orchestral chime of these ancient trees\\nTells the tale of a nation.\\nMASONIC BRIGHT LIGHT.\\nHere s the Templar Knights from the East and the West,\\nChildren, children, won t you follow me\\nFrom the North and the South we all march abreast,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\n175", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "No more do we march as the Gray or the Blue,\\nChildren, children, won t you follow me?\\nBut our plumes are white and our hearts are true,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\nCHORUS.\\nIn the morning, in the morning by the bright light,\\nWhen Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning.\\nAs a warrior band we march to the fight,\\nChildren, children, won t you follow me?\\nOur swords shall flash in the cause of right,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\nThe poor and the weak we are pledged to protect,\\nChildren, children, won t you follow me\\nWe are Christian men without any sect,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\nThen up with the cross, and a cheer for the crown\\nChildren, children, Avon t you follow me\\nThe Crescent of the Pagan is almost down,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\nThen hurrah for the girl that we all love best!\\nChildren, children, won t you follow me?\\nFrom the North, the South, the East and the West,\\nHalle, halle, halle, hallelujah\\nMY WAR-HORSE, BOB.\\n[In memory of Col. Chas. D. Pennybacker s pet.]\\nFarewell, farewell, my beautiful bay!\\nSadly I sigh for your loss to-day\\nMy thoughts go back to the long ago.\\nWhere we tramped and fought with the deadly foe.\\n176", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "Of all the friends that I ever knew,\\nNone served me so kind, so brave and true.\\nAh how shall I tune this nameless lay\\nIn memory of my dear old bay\\nNo bugle note shall ever again\\nCall thee to muster on hill or plain,\\nWhere passion and pelf cause men to bleed\\nNo more shall I ride my gallant steed.\\nIn the days of war, when blood flowed free,\\nWe campaigned together, 3 ou and me\\nNow wJio can blame me to grieve and sob\\nFor losing my friend, my war-horse, Bob\\nBrave comrades have fallen by my side\\nIn the battle-ranks they fought and died\\nYet even these heroes, young or gray.\\nWere not more prized than my noble bay.\\nTHE BOAST OF BACCHUS.\\n1 reign over land, I reign over sea,\\nThe proudest of earth I bring to my knee\\nAs weak as a child in the midnight of care\\nThe prince and the peasant I strip bleak and bare.\\nA taste of my blood sends a thrill to the heart,\\nAnd speeds through the soul like a poisonous dart\\nWhile I leave it a wreck of trouble and pain\\nThat never on earth can be perfect again.\\nThe youth in his bloom and the man in his might\\nI capture by day and I conquer by night\\nThe maid and the matron respond to my call\\nI rule like a tyrant and ride over all.\\n177", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "In the gilded saloon and glittering crowd\\nI deaden the senses and humhle the proud,\\nAnd tear from the noble, the good, and the great\\nThe love and devotion of home, church, and state.\\nI blast all the honor that manhood holds dear;\\nI smile with delight at the sight of a tear\\nAnd laugh in the revel and rout of a night\\nMy mission on earth is to blur and to blight.\\nI ruin the homes of the high and the low\\nI blast every hope of the friend and the foe\\nThe world I sear with my blistering breath,\\nAnd millions I lead to the portals of death.\\nIn the parlor and dance-house I sparkle and roar\\nLike billows that break on a wild, rocky shore\\nI crush every virtue, destroy every truth.\\nThat blossoms in beauty or blushes in youth,\\nMy power is mighty for sin and despair\\nI crouch, like a lion that waits in his lair.\\nTo mangle the life of the pure and the brave,\\nAnd drag them in sorrow to shame and the grave.\\nFAR DOWN THE LANE.\\nFar down the lane I see again\\nA school-girl and a boy\\nThey skip along with laugh and song\\nIn all their youthful joy.\\nThe flowers bloom with sweet perfume.\\nAnd everything is gay\\nThis happy pair, devoid of care,\\nClasp hands in sunny May.\\n178", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "The years pass on, their youth is gone,\\nYet still they cling together\\nWhile strands of gray, from day to dai/y.,\\nProclaim the wintry weather.\\nBut in their eyes those love-lit skies\\nCome back o er hill and plain,\\nAnd shine as blue on hearts as true\\nAs those far down the lane.\\nThus, one by one, when we are gone,\\nIn sunshine and in rain,\\nThe girls and boys will have their joys\\nIn skipping down the lane.\\nA FIRESIDE MEMORY.\\nShe s gone, yet memory unconfined\\nHas reared a temple in my heart\\nWhere all her virtues are enshrined\\nThat never from my soul depart.\\nHer voice, like music low and sweet,\\nCould soothe me in the deepest woe\\nHow Avilling were her flying feet\\nTo serve me in the long ago.\\nHer face, like yonder bank of flowers,\\nShone brightly o er me near and far-\\nLit up my life in lonely hours\\nMy truest friend, my polar star.\\nNo more those footsteps run to greet\\nMy lagging moments night or day\\nWe never more on earth shall meet\\nMy joys with her have passed away.\\n179", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "Her image hangs on yonder wall,\\nStill speaking of the olden time\\nWhen she to me was all in all,\\nAnd love was in its early prime.\\nNow bending o er the smoldering fire\\nI see the shadows come and go,\\nWhile one by one the sparks expire,\\nAnd flake by flake comes down the snow.\\nBut through the gloom I always see\\nA ray of that dear vanished light,\\nAnd memory fondly brings to me\\nHer image ever pure and bright.\\nOL KENTUCKY HOME.\\nAs sung by Uncle Rastus after the War.\\nDar de walnut an de maple,\\nAn de locus an de ash,\\nSpread dar shaders o er de medders fresh an green\\nAn ol massa does n t torture\\nWid de ra hide or de lash\\nAn de bleeden backs shall neber more be\\nCHORUS.\\nSmile some mo me lady,\\nLarf some mo to-day\\nFor de sun still shines\\nIn our ol Kentucky home,\\nIn dat ol Kentucky home, fer away.\\n180", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "Mn de darkies now am happy all de day", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "Oh, de coon an possum chatter\\nIn de moonlight as of yore,\\nAn de darkies now am happy all de day,\\nWhile de pickaninnies tumble\\nOn de cabin puncheon flo\\nAn Aunt Dinah sings and laughs her life away.\\nAn de mockin bird am singin\\nWid de red bird in de brush,\\nAnd de bee is hummin songs among de flowers,\\nWhile de fishes in de brook\\nJump at eb ry bait and hook,\\nAn de squirrel cracks de nuts in sunny hours.\\nDar de bosses run like lightnen,\\nWhile de mules dey kick up high\\nAn de gals am de purtyest eber seen\\nWhar de cattle in de pastures\\nAm de fattest on de erf,\\nAn de foxes is so cunnin smart an keen.\\nTake me back to ol Kentucky,\\nWhar dis darkey dar was born\\nTo de blue grass an dat hebbenly, sunny sky,\\nWhar de Bo rbon juice am runnin\\nAn ol massa still goes gunnin\\nOh dar, Good Laud, let Uncle Rastus die\\nAMONG THE HILLS.\\nAmong the hills where summer rills\\nCome leaping o er the grasses,\\n1 hear the glee from tree to tree\\nAnd see the lads and lasses.\\n183", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "The laughing noise of girls and boys\\nAwakens youthful dreaming\\nOf long ago, with joy and woe,\\nAnd many bright eyes beaming.\\nBut now, to-day, my hair is gray,\\nThe wrinkles o er me creeping\\nMy youth is past, and here at last\\nI m left to silent weeping.\\nBut memory clings and love still sings\\nAmong the hills of childhood\\nThe tunes I knew when friends were true,\\nAnd pleasure ruled the wildwood.\\nLaugh on, sweet youth, with love and truth.\\nBe happy without measure,\\nWhile song and rhyme can kill old Time\\nAnd youth remains a treasure.\\nUNKNOWN.\\nI gazed on the babe at its mother s breast,\\nAnd asked for the secret of life and rest;\\nIt turned with a smile that was sad and lone.\\nAnd murmured in dreaming, Unknown, unknown\\nI challenged the youth so bold and so brave.\\nTo tell me the tale of the lonely grave\\nBut he sung of pleasure in musical tone.\\nAnd his echoing voice replied, Unknown, unknown\\nThen I questioned the gray-haired man of years,\\nWhose face was furrowed with thoughts and tears\\n184", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "And he paused in his race to simply groan\\nThe soul-chilling words Unknown, unknown\\nI asked the lover, the poet and sage\\nIn every clime and in every age\\nTo tell me the truth, and candidly own\\nIf after life it is all unknown.\\nI soared like the lark to the boundless sky,\\nSighed in my soul for the how and the why\\nThe angels were singing and just had flown\\nI heard but the echo, Unknown, unknown\\nI read in the hills and saw in the rocks\\nA lesson that told of the earthquake shocks\\nI gazed at the stars from a mountain cone.\\nBut they only answered, Unknown, unknown\\nThus am I tortured by fear and by doubts,\\nIn tracing the way where so many routes\\nAre ever in view, and quickly are flown.\\nAnd all that I know is Unknown, unknown\\nAt last I determined to surely find\\nAll hope and all bliss in my mystic mind\\nBut just as sweet peace came to soothe me alone,\\nThe wild witch of doubt shrieked, Unknown,\\nunknown\\nThe sun and the moon, the winds and the wave,\\nMay perish in time and sink to the grave;\\nThe temples of earth shall fall, stone by stone,\\nAnd mortals still wail out, Unknown, unknown\\n185", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "A FRIEND.\\nA friend is one who knows your fault,\\nAnd knowing dares to chide you\\nWho bUsters wrong with Attic salt\\nAnd still sticks close beside you.\\nA friend is one who lifts you up\\nWhen sin and sorrow hover,\\nThen casts aside the bitter cup\\nAnd takes you under cover.\\nA friend is one whose words are true,\\nWhose purse in joy or trouble\\nIs ever open unto you\\nWhose heart can not play double.\\nA friend is one who bends alone\\nAbove your nameless tomb,\\nAnd keeps your memory all her own\\nAs flowers in full bloom.\\nLET ME REST.\\nLet me rest where sunlight lingers,\\nNeath the waving willow shade,\\nWhere the morn with dewy fingers\\nSprinkles diamonds o er the glade.\\nWhere the little birds are singing\\nO er the flowers above my tomb.\\nAnd the matin bells are ringing\\nMortals to celestial bloom I\\n186", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "A CONUNDRUM.\\nWho keeps the ocean in motion\\nI asked of the passing breeze\\nIt only gave back for answer\\nThe sigh of the sounding seas.\\nAnd who keeps the stars still shining,\\nFar up in the boundless blue\\nAnd ocean and earth reclining\\nUnder the sun and the dew\\nAnd who keeps the world still going\\nThrough cycles of plodding years;\\nWhere death is reaping our sowing\\nAnd joy is mingled with tears\\nI give it up.\\nBOAST NOT.\\nBoast not thyself of to-morrow,\\nAll of this life is to-day\\nJoy is still mingled with sorrow\\nLoved ones are passing away.\\nBoast not thyself of to-morrow,\\nIts flowers and its fortune will fade\\nWhy should we stop, then, to borrow\\nThe trouble that each heart has made\\nBoast not thyself of to-morrow,\\nThis life is a span and a breath\\nHow cold, how damp, and how narrow\\nThe portals that point us to death.\\n187", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "Boast not, take heed lest thou fall,\\nVain pride is the runner of fate\\nThe grave grass shall grow o er us all\\nThe worst or the best of the state\\nBoast not of this flitting hour\\nIt speeds like a bird in its flight\\nFrail as the dew on a flower,\\nBleak as the darkness of night.\\nBoast not when pleasure surrounds thee,\\nWhere mirth lights the garish saloon\\nAll of its flash will confound thee,\\nAnd leave thee in sorrow too soon.\\nBoast not at all, but be humble\\nDo good for the sake of the good\\nAll that are human must stumble.\\nAnd each heart has done as it could.\\nREST.\\n[In memory of General O. E. Babcock, U. S. A.]\\nRest, soldier, rest beneath the sod\\nMortality has gone to God\\nThy battles o er, all trials past\\nPeace to your ashes, rest at last.\\nThe coming years will always tell\\nYou did your duty nobly wtU\\nAnd faced the storm when others fled;\\nBut now, alas, dear friend, you re dead.\\n188", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "Sweet be the flowers above your tomb,\\nLet honor in eternal bloom\\nEntwine the ivy o er thy dust\\nAn evergreen of love and trust.\\nThe Capital you made so bright,\\nShall ever think you good and right\\nWhile coming years shall sound thy praise.\\nAnd memory to thy image raise.\\nA marble shaft, to tell all time\\nThat Genius reigns in every clime;\\nAnd man, at last, is always just,\\nBecause he loves and lives to trust.\\nWhile ocean billows toss and roar\\nAgainst the great Atlantic shore,\\nYour memory in our hearts shall be\\nPare as the foam upon the sea.\\nRest, soldier, rest brave heart, be still;\\nYou rest in peace on yon Oak Hill,\\nA brother to the silent clod\\nRest, soldier, rest in peace with God\\nSHADOWS ON THE WALL.\\nThe maple grows in beauty outside my classic hall,\\nIts branches kiss my windows, and shadows climb the wall\\nThey flit in fairy dances where Zephyr plays his tune,\\nAnd birds of brightest plumage sing all the airs of June.\\nThe sunlight and the shadows that intermingle here\\nBring pictures of the faces, ever pure and very dear,\\nThat thrilled my heart in childhood when life was fresh\\nand true,\\nAnd every changing shadow brought pleasure to my view.\\n189", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "The leaves upon the maple are dancing light and free,\\nThey limn their loving features in the halls of memory;\\nAnd as they murmur gayly to entrance my rural scene,\\nThey bring back cheering voices with a chorus in between.\\nThe shadows of the comrades I loved in long ago\\nAre flitting in my vision their faces well I know\\nAnd from the roar of battle I hear their voices rise,\\nTo mingle with our triumph and echo in the skies.\\nAnd in the hall of memory, engraven fond and dear,\\nThe shadow of my True Love appears from year to year\\nThe maple never murmurs but I hear her magic rune\\nA rose of radiant beauty that I lost in jealous June!\\nTHE LOST ATLANTIS.\\n[Dedicated to Ignatius Donnelly.]\\nThe night of ages is passing away,\\nYet the dawn of Atlantis shines afar,\\nWhere the mind of man like a perfect day\\nBeams out on the earth like a morning star.\\nThere is nothing new% there is nothing old,\\nIn this beautiful world so fresh and free\\nThe mountains are filled with silver and gold\\nAs they came from the hand of Destiny.\\nThe hills and the vales will blossom in spring,\\nThe ocean will roar with a sullen cry\\nOld Time in his flight, with a restless wing,\\nShall whir o er the dead without pity or sigh.\\n190", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "So the sun will rise and the sun will set,\\nAnd stars will bejewel the upper blue,\\nAnd the earthquake shock like a gaping net\\nWill swallow together the false and true.\\nI hear a voice o er the rolling deep,\\nAnd catch a glimpse of that far-offshore.\\nWhere men and women will never weep.\\nIn the new Atlantis, forevermore.\\nLET S DRINK TO-NIGHT.\\nLet s drink to-night while stars are bright,\\nAnd banish every sorrow\\nAnd hope to see, for you and me,\\nA glorious to-morrow.\\nFill up the bowl and thrill the soul\\nWith wine of Love and Beauty\\nWhate er you do, be always true,\\nAnd bravely do your^duty.\\nLaugh with the gay from day to day,\\nGrieve not for vanished pleasure,\\nThe present time we ll tune to rhyme\\nAnd grasp it as a treasure.\\nCHORUS.\\nCheer up, cheer up let s fill the cup.\\nAnd drink to beaming eyes,\\nThat on us shine through rosy wine,\\nLike stars in yonder skies.\\n191", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "WHERE IS GOD TO-DAY?\\n[This question was asked by the five-year-old child of General Thomas\\nL. Rosser, Virginia.]\\nA blue-eyed boy, while sporting at his play,\\nAsked this question, Pa, where is God to-day?\\nThe man of years and thought could not reply,\\nAnd only answered by the saddest sigh.\\nThe greatest sages of the olden time\\nHave asked this question of the earth and sky;\\nBut never yet, in any land or clime.\\nHas man been satisfied with the reply.\\nWe build great temples to the God we make.\\nAnd worship something till we re old and gray\\nBut from the aching heart we can not take\\nThe simple question Where is God to-day\\nPerhaps the little child might tell us now,\\nWhere God in all his power reigns on high,\\nWhere wreaths immortal crown the boyish brow,\\nAnd worlds unnumbered shine beyond the sky.\\nTHE HOG.\\n[Dedicated to You No Who.]\\nOh look at the hog, the great he hog\\nYou can see him near or far\\nHe seems like a bog or a water-log\\nThe hog in the railroad car\\nThen look at the little, snug she hog,\\nAs she tries to be on a par\\nWith the big he hog, and the other hogs,\\nThat ride in the crowded car\\n192", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "Just gaze at the hog, the round, fat hog,\\nWith his snout neath The Evening Star\\nHe spreads o er tlie seat with hands and feet\\nThe hog in the Avenue car\\nOh happy old hog, full of gall and grog,\\nYou may grunt and wriggle and sigh\\nYet I would n t be sad, but really glad,\\nIf the street-car hog would die\\nVICTOR HUGO.\\nStout heart, good man, no pomp or state\\nCan gild thy pure renown\\nThy life was moulded pure and great\\nLe-Grande in field or town.\\nHater of shams, lover of right\\nA patriot sublime\\nA man who ruled by love, not might,\\nAnd wrote for all of time.\\nThy memory, like a sweet perfume,\\nShall shine along the ages\\nBe fadeless as immortal bloom,\\nOr like thy golden pages,\\nWhere love and truth are intertwined\\nNobility its plan\\nGreat royalty of heart and mind,\\nYou lived for God and man\\n193", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "tbe neale Company s ti^w BooUs and Hew \u00e2\u0082\u00acdUion$\\nAutobiographies and Portraits of the President,\\nCabinet, Supreme Court and Congress. Edited\\nby Walter Neale. The first two volumes, now ready, cou-\\ntain the biographies and portraits of President McKinley, the\\nlate Vice-President, the members of the McKinley Cabinet, and\\nof the Supreme Court of the United States, and all of the mem-\\nbers of the Senate and House of Representatives of the Fifty-fifth\\nCongress. It is the purpose of the publishers to issue supple-\\nmentary volumes with each incoming administration and Con-\\ngress, which will embrace the autobiographies and portraits of\\neach of the new officers of the government.\\n7\\\\uo vols., sy^ X 6}/^, pp. l.l/tO, illustrated by kll engravings. Price, in\\ncloth, $7.60 per set; half morocco, $10.00 per set.\\nCoin, Currency and Commerce. An Essay in Exposition\\nof their Natural Relations, and containing Outlines of Monetary\\nTheory. By Philip A. Robinson.\\n224 pp.,5}ix7yi, cloth. Price, $1.00.\\nThe Southampton Insurrection. By William S. Drewry,\\nM. A., Ph. 1). A complete history of the great slave insurrec-\\ntion of Virginia in 1831.\\n6j4z8, cloth, illustrated by 36 full-page demi-teintcs from photographs\\nby the author, from Dagxicrreotypes, Drawings, etc., \u00c2\u00a3S6pp. Pnce, $2.00.\\nHistory of Slavery in Virginia. By James Curtis\\nBallagh, Ph. I)., Associate in History, Johns Hopkins Univer-\\nsity. An exhaustive history of the theory and practice of slavery\\nand of the treatment of negroes and other dependents in Vir-\\nginia from 1607 to 1865.\\n5 ic 73^ cloth; 250 pp. Edition limited to 500 copies. Price, $2.00.\\nNiagara: Its History, Incidents and Poetry. By\\nRichard L. Johnson. Illustrated by fourteen full-page photo-\\ngravures in tints, from original photographs by Soule, twenty-\\nfour full-page demi-teintes and many halftones.\\nSize, 12y^ X sy^inches lib pages. Red cluth binding, on which is\\nmounted a reproduction in color photograph of the painting by Church.\\nEarly Days of Washington. By Miss Sally Somervell\\nMackall. The most authoritative history of the National\\nCapital. Illustrated by 75 engravings and reproductions of old\\ndrawings and prints.\\nCtoth 6%x8 inches 328 pages profusely illudrated large, clear\\ntype; hand composition gold top; stamping in gold heavy enamel\\npaper. Price, $2.60.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "tbc neale Company s flew Books and new editions\\nAutobiographies and Portraits of the President,\\nCabinet, Supreme Court and Congress. Edited\\nby Walter Neale. The tirst two volumes, now ready, con-\\ntain the biographies and portraits of President McKinley, the\\nlate Vice-President, the members of the McKiniey Cabinet, and\\nof the Supreme Court of the United States, and all of the mem-\\nbers of the Senate and House of Kepresentatives of the Fifty-fifth\\nCongress. It is the purpose of the publishers to issue supple-\\nmentary volumes with each incoming administration and Con-\\ngress, which will embrace the autobiographies and portraits of\\neach of the new officers of the government.\\nTwo vols., 9y^ X 6}4, pp. l.lhO, iUicdrated byUTl engravings. Price, in\\ncloth, $7.60 per set; half morocco, $10.00 per set.\\nCoin, Currency and Commerce. An Essay in Exposition\\nof their Natural Relations, and containing Outlines of Monetary\\nTheory. By Philip A. Robinson.\\ngSU pp.,5]4x7y^, cloth. Price, $1 .00.\\nThe Southampton Insurrection. By William S. Drewry,\\nM. A., Ph. 1). A complete history of the great slave insurrec-\\ntion of Virginia in 1831.\\n6%x8, cloth, illustrated by S6 full-page demi-teintes from photographs\\nby the author, from Daguerreotypes, Drawings, etc., 2S6pp. Price, $2.00.\\nHistory of Slavery in Virginia. By James Curtis\\nBallagh, Ph. I)., Associate in History, Johns Hopkins Univer-\\nsity. An exhaustive history of the theory and practice of slavery\\nand of the treatment of negroes and other dependents in Vir-\\nginia from 1607 to 18G5.\\n6x7)^: cloth; 250 pp. Edition limited to 500 copies. Price, $2.00.\\nNiagara: Its History, Incidents and Poetry. By\\nRichard L. Johnson. Illustrated by fourteen full-page photo-\\ngravures in tints, from original photographs by Soule, twenty-\\nfour full-page demi-teintes and many halftones.\\nSize, 12% X 8}^ inches; 115 pages. Red cluth binding, on which is\\nmounted a reproduction in color photograph of the painting by Church.\\nEarly Days of Washington. By Miss Sally Somervell\\nMackall. The most authoritative history of the National\\nCapital, Illustrated by 75 engravings and reproductions of old\\ndrawings and prints.\\nCloth 6y^x8 inches 328 pages profusely illustrated large, clear\\ntype; hand composition gold top; stamping in gold heavy enamel\\npaper. Price, $2.60.", "height": "3471", "width": "2223", "jp2-path": "completepoemsofc00joyc_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "The Novels of Honore de Balzac. Including Scenes of\\nParisian Life of Private Life of Provincial Life of Military,\\nPolitical, and Country Life, etc. Complete in twenty volumes\\nof over eight hundred pages each, and is the only English\\nTranslation of Balzac which is complete and unexpurgated.\\nThe works are illustrated vxith Ul etchinga, printed on Japan paper,\\nand 160 demi-teintes after draivings by Adrien-Moreau, Toudoxize,\\nCortazzo, Eobaudi, Vidal, Cain, etc. The volumes are printed on wove\\npaper, antique finish, handsomely bound in linen.\\nJoan of Arc. A drama in verse by Charles James.\\n5^ X 7}4 inches; illustrated; 81 pages; printed from new type on\\nStrathmore deckle-edge paper. Price, $1.00.\\nThe Last Man. A novel by N. Monroe MacLachlan.\\nCloth, UO pp.; 5x 73^. Price, $1.00.\\nAs It Happened. A novel by Josephine Winfield Brake.\\nI have no hesitation in saying, I believe it to be the\\nstrongest exposure of modern masculinity the generation has\\nproduced. It is as intense in climax as On the Heights, by\\nAuerbach. Dewit C. Jones, Columbus (Ohio) Record.\\nBound in cloth; size 5 x ly^. Pnce, $1.00.\\nThe Regeneration. A novel by Herbkrt Baird Stimpson,\\nauthor of The Tory Maid, etc.\\nCloth; 5 xiy^ inches; illustrated; 181 pages. Price, $1.00.\\nComplete Poems of Colonel John A. Joyce. Author\\nof Peculiar Poems, Jewels of Memory, etc. Compiled and\\narranged by the author. Illustrated by Paul D. Sullivan.\\nPrice, $1.00.\\nAmerican Statesmen. Being many yarns and good stories\\ngathered here and there on our public men\u00e2\u0080\u0094 on those Avho hold\\noffice, those who hope to, and those who never will. Collected\\nand edited by Walter Neale. Illustrated in caricature by\\nFelix E. Mahony, C. T. Berryman and Paul D. Sullivan.\\nCloth; 6x9; 500 pp. Price, $2.50.\\nWaifs of the Press. By Harry L. Work.\\nCloth; 5x7^4; 200 pp. Price, $1.00.\\nVade Mecum to the Dinner Table. By Edmund,\\nBaron Wucherer von Huldenfeld, formerly tutor to the\\nArchduke Eugene, Invaluable to Americans going abroad.\\nCloth; 5%x8; pp. 15U. 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