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Gen. Albert Pike's poems

Pike, Albert (1809-1891)

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EVERY YEAR.
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Hymns to the Gods.
 
No. 1. TO HĒRA.
 
No. 2. TO POSEIDŌN.
 
No. 3. TO DĒMĒTĒR.
 
No. 4. TO DIÓNŪSOS.
 
No. 5. TO 'APHRODÍTÉ.
 
No. 6. TO APOLLŌN.
 
No. 7. TO ARTEMIS.
 
No. 8. TO ARÉS.
 
No. 9. TO PALLAS.
 
No. 10. TO HERMĒS.
 
No. 11. TO FLORA.
 
No. 12. TO HUPNOS.
 
LATONA.
 
THE OLD CANOE.
 
ARIEL.
 
ODE TO THE MOCKING-BIRD.
 
AN EVENING CONVERSATION.
 
THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.
 
SPRING.
 
AULD LANG SYNE.
 
THE STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM.
 
NIGHT ON THE ARKANSA.
 
MY NATIVE LAND, MY TENNESSEE.
 
O DEAREST, O DAINTIEST MIGNONNE!
 
“AFTER THE MIDNIGHT COMETH MORN.”
 
THE WIDOWED HEART.
 
THE DEAD CHASE.
 
“LOVE BLOOMS BUT ONCE.”
 
TO A ROBIN.
 
FAREWELL TO NEW ENGLAND.
 
BUENA VISTA.
 
NOON IN SANTA FÉE.
 
RE-UNION.
 
ANNIE.
 
HOME.
 
LINES TO A LADY.
 
CHRISTMAS.
 
TO THE MOCKING-BIRD.
 
NIGHT.
 
MORNING.
 
AT MIDNIGHT.
 
THE LIGHT OF DAYS LONG PAST.
 
TO MARY.
 
ORA ATQUE LABORA.
 
AUTUMN.
 
AN INVITATION.
 
TO GENEVIEVE.
 
LINES WRITTEN ON THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
 
MA TRISTE CHÉRIE.
 
FANNY.
 
REFLECTIONS.
 
SUNSET IN ARKANSAS.
 
MIGNONNE.
 
INVOCATION.
 
CAROLINE.
 
THE MAGNOLIA.
 
THE FIRST WILD-FLOWER OF SPRING.
 
A FRAGMENT.
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LES MARCHANDES.
 
PRINTEMPS.
 
AVRIL.
 
MAI.
 
JUIN.
 
LA MAITRESSE DE LA POSTE.
 
CARISIMA.
 
SIMILES.
 
A DIRGE.
 
GERTRUDE.
 
LINES.
 
TO THE MOON.
 
THE DYING WIFE.
 
A LAMENT FOR DIXIE.
 
JUBILATE.
 
ELLEN.
 
BROWN OCTOBER.
 
THE SILVER WEDDING.
 
THE BRIDAL.
 
Επος.
 
“THE FINE ARKANSAS GENTLEMAN.”
 
AFTER-DINNER.
 
CRUISKEEN LAN.
 
“OH, JAMIE BREWED A BOWL O' PUNCH.”
 
A SONNET.
 
WHEN CALIFORNIA WAS A FOREIGN LAND.
 
“WILT THOU ON THY SWEET BOSOM WEAR?”
 
THE WAIF RETURNED.
 
CLEOPATRE.
 
AS THE SEASONS COME AND GO.

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JUBILATE.

Now our night of terror endeth,
God his Rose of Dawn now sendeth,
Giving life and light to Dixie:
Arms no longer Fraud sustaining,
Knaves and thieves no longer reigning,
Hope is once more born for Dixie.
Life has come to Dixie;
She's free! free!! free!!!—
On Dixie's land we now may stand,
No longer tortured Dixie:
She's free! free!! free!!!
Our own, dear, wasted Dixie:
She's free! free!! free!!!
For God is good to Dixie.
1877.
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