. The poetical works of James Russell Lowell . the Printers insertingsuch news < Verily, if tempora mutan-lar, we may question the et nos mutamurin nils; and if tongues be leaky, it willneed all hands at the i)umps to save theShip of State. Our history dotes and re-])eats itself. If Sassycus (rather than Al-ciljiades) find a i)arallel in Beauregard, soWeakwash, as he is called by the braveLieutenant Lion Gardiner, need not seekfar among our own Sachems for liis respect, Your ob humble serv*. Homer Wilbur, A. M. I LOVE to start out artor nights begun,An all the chores about th
. The poetical works of James Russell Lowell . the Printers insertingsuch news < Verily, if tempora mutan-lar, we may question the et nos mutamurin nils; and if tongues be leaky, it willneed all hands at the i)umps to save theShip of State. Our history dotes and re-])eats itself. If Sassycus (rather than Al-ciljiades) find a i)arallel in Beauregard, soWeakwash, as he is called by the braveLieutenant Lion Gardiner, need not seekfar among our own Sachems for liis respect, Your ob humble serv*. Homer Wilbur, A. M. I LOVE to start out artor nights begun,An all the chores about the farm are done,The critters milked an foddered, gates shet fast,Tools cleaned aginst to-morrer, supper past,An Nancy darnin by her kersene lamp, —I love, 1 say, to start upon a tramp, To shake the kinkles out o back an legs,An kind o rack my life off from the dregsThet s apt to settle in the buttery-hutchOf folks thet foller in one rut too much :Hard work is good an wholesome, past all doubt;But t aint so, ef the mind gits tuck- ered THE BIGLOW PAPERS, 243 Now, bein born in Middlesex, you know,There s certin spots where I like best to go :The Concord road, for instance, (I, for one,Most ginlly oilers call it John Bulls Ran,)The field o Lexinton where England triedThe fastest colours thet she ever dyed,An Concord Bridge, thet Davis, when he was the bee-line track to heaven an fame,Ez all roads be by natur, ef your soulDont sneak thru shun-pikes so s to save the toll. They re most too fur away, take too much timeTo visit ofen, ef it aint in rhyme ;But the s a walk thet s hendier, a sight,An suits nie fust-rate of a winters night, —I mean the round whales-back o Pros-pect love to Titer there while night grows in the twinklin villages here, then there, the well-saved lights goes out,An nary sound but watch-dogs false alarms,Or muffled cock-crows from the drowsy farms,\Vliere some wise rooster (men act jest thet way)Stands to t thet m
Size: 1350px × 1851px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidpoeticalwork, bookyear1884
