Strike-for your altars and your fires; Strike-for the green graves of your sires; God-and your native land! — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
They love their land, because it is their own, And scorn to give aught other reason why; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his majesty. - Fitz — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
Ere the dolphin dies Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's breath Are tropic winds before the voice of death. — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
And thou art terrible--the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier; And all we know, or dream, or fear Of agony, are… — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
I cannot spare the luxury of believing that all things beautiful are what they seem. — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
Strike-for your altars and your fires; Strike-for the green graves of your sires; God-and your native land! — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
Come to the bridal-chamber, Death! Come to the mother's, when she feels, For the first time, her first-born's breath! Come when the blessed seals… — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
And Burns--though brief the race he ran, Though rough and dark the paths he trod, Lived--died--in form and soul a man, The image of… — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
What is man's love? His vows are broke even while his parting kiss is warm. — Fitz-Greene Halleck Copy Share Image
