Short Poems

A HALL , my Masters, giue Rotundus roome
You'l maruell at his tricks, he hath such store:
He turnes as oft as he returnes from Rome
Vnto that Faith which hee profest before:
But before God his turning thus so oft
May make him fall before hee comes aloft.

A leaf for hand in hand;
You natural persons old and young!
You on the Mississippi and on all the branches and bayous of the Mississippi!
You friendly boatmen and mechanics! you roughs!
You twain! and all processions moving along the streets!
I wish to infuse myself among you till I see it common for you to walk hand in hand.

As father Adam first was fool'd,
A case that's still too common,
Here lyes a man a woman rul'd,
The devil rul'd the woman.

the deeper I go
the deeper I go
green mountains.

Foot-wearying mountain
with white clouds
trailing over it—
is this the day I cross
by its pathway of jutting planks?

Man may want Land to live in; but for all,
Nature finds out some place for buriall.

Upon her cheekes she wept, and from those showers
Sprang up a sweet Nativity of Flowres.

Excesse is sluttish: keepe the meane; for why?
Vertue's clean Conclave is sobriety.

Welcome to this my Colledge, and though late
Tha'st got a place here (standing candidate)
It matters not, since thou art chosen one
Here of my great and good foundation.

Pauls hands do give, what give they bread or meat,
Or money? no, but onely deaw and sweat.
As stones and salt gloves use to give, even so
Pauls hands do give, nought else for ought we know.