Buttercups and Daisies

I never see a young hand hold
The starry bunch of white and gold,
But something warm and fresh will start
About the region of my heart; -
My smile expires into a sigh;
I feel a struggling in my eye,
'Twixt humid drop and sparkling ray,
Till rolling tears have won their way;
For, soul and brain will travel back,
Through memory's chequer'd mazes,
To days, when I but trod life's track
For buttercups and daisies.

There seems a bright and fairy spell
About there very names to dwell;
And though old Time has mark'd my brow
With care and thought, I love them now.
Smile, if you will, but some heartstrings
Are closest link'd to simplest things;
And these wild flowers will hold mine fast,

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Banner of Union

Bring the Harp of the West, and the Pipes of the North,
When our Trumpet note calls to the field;
Let the men of old Scotia and Erin come forth,
And our foemen shall see who must yield.

Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,
With a will and a might none shall sever;
For Glory or Death, we will twine in one wreath
Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle for ever.

Our Banner of Union shall float in the wind
Over hearts that have never yet quailed;
The sword shall be drawn and the banner be borne,
By hands that have never yet failed.
Sons of heather! your fame in the fight
Is as old as your glens and your valleys,
Men of Hibernia! let Right ask for Might;
And where is the spirit but rallies.

Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Don't Tell the World that You're Waiting for Me

THREE summers have gone since the first time we met, love,
And still 'tis in vain that I ask thee to wed ;
I hear no reply but a gentle " Not yet, love,"
With a smile of your lip, and a shake of your head.
Ah ! how oft have I whispered, how oft have I sued thee,
And breathed my soul's question of " When shall it be ?"
You know, dear, how long and how truly I've wooed thee,
So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

I have fashioned a home, where the fairies might dwell, love,
I've planted the myrtle, the rose, and the vine ;
But the cottage to me is a mere hermit's cell, love,
And the bloom will be dull till the flowers are thine.
I've a ring of bright gold, which I gaze on when lonely,
And sigh with Hope's eloquence, " When will it be ?"
There needs but thy " Yes," love--one little word only,
So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song of the Sailor Boy

Cheer up, cheer up, my mother dear!
Ah! Why do you sit and weep?
Do you think that he who guards me here,
Forsakes me on the deep?
Let hope and faith light up your glance,
When you see our ship set sail;
Look, look at her now, and see her dance;
Oh! Why do you turn so pale?
There's an English flag, and an English crew;
So, mother, be proud of your boy in blue.

Ah! Wonder not that, next to thee,
I love the galloping wave;
'Tis the first of coursers, bold and free -
And fit to carry the brave.
It may bear me on to a dark lee-shore,
To sink with a gallant band;
But early or late - here's a heart for my fate,
Let it come on the sea or the land.
The storm and the battle shall find me true,

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Leave Thee for Awhile

I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
I do not blush to own the tear,--let, let it touch my cheek,
And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
Mavourneen! when again I seek my green isle in the West,
Oh, promise thou wilt share my lot, and set this heart at rest.

I leave thee for awhile, my love; but every hour will be
Uncheered and lonely till the one that brings me back to thee.
I go to make my riches more; but where is man to find
A vein of gold so rich and pure as that I leave behind?
Mavourneen! though my home might be the fairest earth possessed,
Till thou wouldst share and make it warm, this heart would know no rest.

I leave thee for awhile, my love; my cheek is cold and white,
But ah, I see a promise stand within thy glance of light;
When next I seek old, Erin's shore, thy step will bless it too,
And then the grass will seem more green, the sky will have more blue.
Mavourneen! first and dearest loved, there's sunshine in my breast,
For thou wilt share my future lot, and set this heart at rest.

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Quiet Eye

THE ORB I like is not the one
That dazzles with its lightning gleam;
That dares to look upon the sun,
As though it challenged brighter beam.
That orb may sparkle, flash, and roll;
Its fire may blaze, its shaft may fly;
But not for me: I prize the soul
That slumbers in a quiet eye.

There ’s something in its placid shade
That tells of calm, unworldly thought;
Hope may be crown’d, or joy delay’d—
No dimness steals, no ray is caught.
Its pensive language seems to say,
“I know that I must close and die;”
And death itself, come when it may,
Can hardly change the quiet eye.

There ’s meaning in its steady glance,
Of gentle blame or praising love,

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Teddy O'Neale

I've come to the cabin he danced his wild jigs in,
As neat a mud palace as ever was seen;
And considering it served to keep poultry and pigs in,
I'm sure it was always most elegant clean.
But now all about it seems lonely and dreary,
All sad and all silent, no piper, no reel;
Not even the sun, through the casement, is cheery,
Since I miss the dear, darling boy, Teddy O'Neale.

I dreamt but last night--oh! bad luck to my dreaming,
I'd die if I thought 'twould come truly to pass,--
But I dreamt, while the tears down my pillow were streaming,
That Teddy was courting another fair lass.
Oh! didn't I wake with a weeping and wailing,--
The grief of that thought was too deep to conceal;
My mother cried--'Norah, child, what is your ailing?'
And all I could utter was--'Teddy O'Neale!'

Shall I ever forget when the big ship was ready,
And the moment was come when my love must depart;

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Flag of the Free

'Tis the streamer of England - it floats o'er the brave-
'Tis the fairest unfurled o'er the land or the wave;
But though brightest in story and matchless in fight,
'Tis the heralds of Mercy as well as of Might.
In the cause of the wronged may it ever be first-
When tyrants are humbled and fetters are burst:
Be 'Justice' the war-shout, and dastard is he
Who would scruple to die 'neath the Flag of the Free!

It may trail o'er the halyards-a bullet-torn rag,
Or flutter in shreds from the battlement-crag;
Let the shot whistle through it as fast as it may,
Till it sweep the last glorious tatter away.
What matter! we'd hoist the blue jacket on high
Or the soldier's red sash from the spearhead should fly:
Though it were but a riband, the foeman should see
The proud signal and own it-the Flag of the Free!

Have we ever looked out from a far foreign shore,
To mark the gay pennon each passing ship bore;

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Be Kind When You Can

Be kind when you can, though the kindness be little,
'Tis small letters make up philosophers' scrolls;
The crystal of Happiness, vivid and brittle,
Can seldom be cut into very large bowls.

'Tis atoms that dwell in the measureless mountain,
'Tis moments that sum up the century's flight;
'Tis but drops that unite in Niagara's fountain,
'Tis rays, single rays, from the harvest-sun light.

Stone by stone builds the temple that rises in glory,
Inch by inch grows the child till maturity's prime;
The jewels so famous in bright, Eastern story
Have been nursed, tint by tint, in the blossom of Time.

'Tis grains make the desert-sheet, trackless and spreading;
'Tis but petals that deck every blossom-twinned spray;
There are leaves - only leaves - where the forest is shedding
Its gloom till the density shuts out the day.

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Winter the Season For the Exercise of Charity

We know 'tis good that old Winter should come,
Roving awhile from his Lapland home;
'Tis fitting that we should hear the sound
Of his reindeer sledge on the slippery ground.

For his wide and glittering cloak of snow
Protects the seeds of life below;
Beneath his mantle are nurtured and born,
The roots of the flowers - the germs of the corn.

The whistling tone of his pure strong breath
Rides purging the vapours of pestilent death:
I love him, I say, and avow it again,
For God's wisdom and might shew well in his train.

But the naked - the poor! I know they quail,
With crouching limbs from the biting gale:
They pine and starve by the fireless hearth,
And weep as they gaze on the frost-bound earth.

[...] Read more

poem by Eliza Cook
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!