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Poems about Tribute
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Your lips were so laughing Langston man
"Ambubaiarum Collegia Pharmacopeić."
WHO first reform'd our Stage with justest Lawes,
And was the first best Judge in his owne Cause?
Four thousand of us fought three million.
When you visit Sparta, tell them:
Ye shall say they all have passed away, That noble race and brave,
Thou hast fill'd me a golden cup
With a drink divine that glows,
I've not made much o' my life, Lord knows; I'm a has-been through an' through,
An' meanin' 's as far as I've mostly got with the thi
Here lies our Sovereign Lord the King,
Whose word no man relies on,
N. M. F. Whither, with blue and pleading eyes,—
When dusk comes round again And red goes down the sun,
Farewell, my best-beloved; whose heavenly mind
Genius with virtue, strength with softness join'd;
When faint and sad o'er sorrow's desert wild Slow journeys onward poor misfortune's child;
The little old man with the curve in his back
And the eyes that are dim and the skin that is slack,
That shy mysterious poet Arthur Stace
Whose work was just one single mighty word
While some "rap" over this turmoil of who was Blackest first
Here dwell together still two men of note
Who never lived and so can never die:
It is not in a prison drear
Where all around is gloom,
Sweet flower! with flowers I strew thy narrow bed!
Sweets to the sweet! Farewell! ~ Shakespeare.
Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers,
Gigantic time-worn Tree, what moons have fled
Since thou wert planted first by warlike hand!
GOLDEN sun of victory, born
In my life's unclouded morn,
Cuba nos une en extranjero suelo, Auras de Cuba nuestro amor desea:
There must be great rejoicin' on the Golden Shore to-day,
Oh, a ship in the Tropics, a-foaming along,
With every stitch drawing, the Trade blowing strong,
Guid-Mornin' to our Majesty!
May Heaven augment your blisses
There was a boy of other days,
A quiet, awkward, earnest lad,
Half across the world to westward there's a harbour that I know, Where the ships that load with lumber and the China liners go, &mdas
And the water began to heave and the weather to moan,
And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew
“MAXIMILIAN MARVELOUS,” we called him for a joke; He used to pass us every day, but rarely ever spoke.
How blest, how firm the Statesman stands,
(Him no low intrigue shall move),
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