May she always deal defeat,--
When contending navies meet,
And the battle's screaming sleet
Blinds and stuns,--
With the red, terrific thunder of her guns.
Here's to her!
III
Here's to her who bears the name
Of our State;
May the glory of her fame
Be as great!
Like a beacon, like a star,
May she lead our squadrons far,--
When the hurricane of war
Shakes the world,--
With her pennant in the vanward broad unfurled.
Here's to her!
_Quatrains_
I
MOTHS AND FIREFLIES
Since Fancy taught me in her school of spells
I know her tricks--These are not moths at all,
Nor fireflies; but masking Elfland belles
Whose link-boys torch them to Titania's ball.
II
AUTUMN WILD-FLOWERS
Like colored lanterns swung in Elfin towers,
Wild morning-glories light the tangled ways,
And, like the rosy rockets of the Fays,
Burns the sloped crimson of the cardinal-flowers.
III
THE WIND IN THE PINES
When winds go organing through the pines
On hill and headland, darkly gleaming,
Meseems I hear sonorous lines
Of Iliads that the woods are dreaming.
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