"The birds can fly, an' why can't I? Must we give in," says he, with a grin, "'T the blackbird an' phoebe are smarter 'n we be? Jest fold our hands, an' see the swaller An' blackbird an' catbird beat… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
Darius was clearly of the opinion That the air is also man's dominion, And that, with paddle or fins or pinion, We soon or late Shall navigate The azure, as now we sail the sea. — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
Our days, our deeds, all we achieve or are, Lay folded in our infancy; the things Of good or ill we choose while yet… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
The birds can fly, an' why can't I? Must we give in, says he with a grin, That the bluebird an' phoebe are smarter… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
We are two travelers, Roger and I. Roger's my dog-come here, you scamp! Jump for the gentleman-mind your eye! Over the table,-look out for… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
If you will observe, it doesn't take A man of giant mould to make A giant shadow on the wall; And he who in… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
On turf and curb and bower-roof The snow-storm spreads its ivory woof; It paves with pearl the garden-walk; And lovingly around the tatter'd stalk… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
With years a richer life begins, the spirit mellow: ripe age gives tones to violins, wine, and good fellows. — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
Men are polished, through act and speech, Each by each, As pebbles are smoothed on the rolling beach. — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
The tears of the young who go their way, last a day; But the grief is long of the old who stay. — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
I keep some portion of my early gleam; Brokenly bright, like moonbeams on a river, It lights my life, a far illusive dream, Moves… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
"The birds can fly, an' why can't I? Must we give in," says he, with a grin, "'T the blackbird an' phoebe are smarter… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
The speckled sky is dim with snow, The light flakes falter and fall slow; Athwart the hill-top, rapt and pale, Silently drops a silvery… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
