John Smith, U.S.A. eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 82 pages of information about John Smith, U.S.A..

  Child of Latonia, this I crave;
    May peace of mind and health attend me,
  And down into my very grave
    May this dear lyre of mine befriend me!


  If ever in the sylvan shade
  A song immortal we have made,
  Come now, O lute, I pri’ thee come—­
  Inspire a song of Latium.

  A Lesbian first thy glories proved—­
  In arms and in repose he loved
  To sweep thy dulcet strings and raise
  His voice in Love’s and Liber’s praise;
  The Muses, too, and him who clings
  To Mother Venus’ apron-strings,
  And Lycus beautiful, he sung
  In those old days when you were young.

  O shell, that art the ornament
  Of Phoebus, bringing sweet content
  To Jove, and soothing troubles all—­
  Come and requite me, when I call!

  HORACE I, 22.

  Fuscus, whoso to good inclines—­
    And is a faultless liver—­
  Nor moorish spear nor bow need fear,
    Nor poison-arrowed quiver.

  Ay, though through desert wastes he roams,
    Or scales the rugged mountains,
  Or rests beside the murmuring tide
    Of weird Hydaspan fountains!

  Lo, on a time, I gayly paced
    The Sabine confines shady,
  And sung in glee of Lalage,
    My own and dearest lady.

  And, as I sung, a monster wolf
    Slunk through the thicket from me—–­
  But for that song, as I strolled along
    He would have overcome me!

  Set me amid those poison mists
    Which no fair gale dispelleth,
  Or in the plains where silence reigns
    And no thing human dwelleth;

  Still shall I love my Lalage—­
    Still sing her tender graces;
  And, while I sing my theme shall bring
    Heaven to those desert places!



    I love the lyric muse! 
  For when mankind ran wild in groves,
    Came holy Orpheus with his songs
  And turned men’s hearts from bestial loves,
    From brutal force and savage wrongs;
  Came Amphion, too, and on his lyre
    Made such sweet music all the day
  That rocks, instinct with warm desire,
    Pursued him in his glorious way.

    I love the lyric muse! 
  Hers was the wisdom that of yore
    Taught man the rights of fellow-man—­
  Taught him to worship God the more
    And to revere love’s holy ban;
  Hers was the hand that jotted down
    The laws correcting divers wrongs—­
  And so came honor and renown
    To bards and to their noble songs.

    I love the lyric muse! 
  Old Homer sung unto the lyre,
    Tyrtaeus, too, in ancient days—­
  Still, warmed by their immortal fire,
    How doth our patriot spirit blaze! 
  The oracle, when questioned, sings—­
    So we our way in life are taught;
  In verse we soothe the pride of kings,
    In verse the drama has been wrought.

Project Gutenberg
John Smith, U.S.A. from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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