Page 723

Nathaniel Parker Willis. (1806–1867)

7215

At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the city. 1

Necessity for a Promenade Drive.

7216

    For it stirs the blood in an old man’s heart,
  And makes his pulses fly,
To catch the thrill of a happy voice
  And the light of a pleasant eye.

Saturday Afternoon.

7217

    It is the month of June,
  The month of leaves and roses,
When pleasant sights salute the eyes,
  And pleasant scents the noses.

The Month of June.

7218

Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him!
Not for him who, departing, leaves millions in tears!
Not for him who has died full of honor and years!
Not for him who ascended Fame’s ladder so high:
From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.

The Death of Harrison.

7219

Wisdom sits alone
Topmost in Heaven.

The Scholar of Thibet.

7220

The sin forgiven by Christ in Heaven
By man is cursed alway.

Unseen Spirits.

James Thomas Fields. (1817–1881)

7221

Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch,
The owl very gravely got down from his perch,
Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic
(Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic.

The Owl-Critic.

7222

“I’m an owl; you’re another. Sir Critic, good day.”
And the barber kept on shaving.

The Owl-Critic.

Note 1.
See Haliburton, page 586. [back]

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