December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

LINES ON THE DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS by James Monroe Whitfield.

The great, the good, and just the true,
Has yield up his latest breath;
The noblest man our country knew,
Bows to the ghastly monster, Death;
The son of one whose deathless name
Stands on history’s brightest page;
The highest on the list of fame
As statesman, patriot, and sage.

In early youth he learned to prize
The freedom which his father won;
The mantle of the patriot sire
Descended on his mightier son.
Science her deepest hidden lore
Beneath his potent touch revealed;
Philosophy’s abundant store,
Alike his mighty mind could wield.

The brilliant page of poetry
Received

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

I have just seen a most beautiful thing Slim and still Against a gold, gold sky, A straight black cypress, Sensitive, Exquisite, A black finger Pointing upwards. Why, beautiful still finger, are you black? And why are you... THE BLACK FINGER by Angelina Weld Grimke’.
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