Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes, the — Volume 12: Verses from the Oldest Portfolio by Oliver Wendell Holmes
page 45 of 51 (88%)
page 45 of 51 (88%)
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The bakers all were shot,
The penny press began to talk Of lynching Doctor Nott; And all about the warehouse steps Were angry men in droves, Crashing and splintering through the doors To smash the patent stoves! The abolition men and maids Were tanned to such a hue, You scarce could tell them from their friends, Unless their eyes were blue; And, when I left, society Had burst its ancient guards, And Brattle Street and Temple Place Were interchanging cards. A PORTRAIT A STILL, sweet, placid, moonlight face, And slightly nonchalant, Which seems to claim a middle place Between one's love and aunt, Where childhood's star has left a ray In woman's sunniest sky, As morning dew and blushing day On fruit and blossom lie. |
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