Oh Burr, oh Burr, what has though done,
Thou has shooted dead great Hamilton!
You hid behind a bunch of thistle,
And shooted him dead with a great hoss pistol!
It’s been said that this anonymous poem addressed to Aaron Burr was left on Burr’s doorstep in 1804, while other reports say that Burr never saw it until many years later. Whichever, Burr really didn’t hide “behind a bunch of thistle.”
On today’s date in 1850, the 12th President of the United States, Zachary Taylor (known by the nickname “Ol’ Rough and Ready), died of gastroenteritis, after serving for 16 months. At the time, only William Henry Harrison had served a shorter time, dying a month after taking office.
Commemorating the occasion of his death, the Prosecuting Attorney of Logan County, Ohio, William Hubbard, penned these lines:
ZACHARY TAYLOR
Not where the spicy breezes
Of a tropic climate fann’d,
The star-illumined banner
Of the hero’s idol-land:
Not in the storm of battle,
Where the bayonet gleamed high,
‘Mid the drum and trumpet’s clangor
Was the patriot to die!
When the cannon stilled its thunder,
When the saber hid its sheen,
When the turf by blood encrimsoned
Reassumed its garb of green:
When the worn and weary soldier
Laid his plume and helmet by,
And the battle-horse unharnessed
Paled the lightning of his eye;
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Many of us are told it is wrong to envy very early in life, but just how big of an impression does it make? Starting off in Catholic school at age 6, I of course learned I wasn’t supposed to covet my neighbor’s goods. I happened to notice that my older brother was not deterred one whit from coveting other people’s stuff with impunity, particularly mine, so I don’t think it made that big of an impression on me.
When I was 13, I learned the poem, Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson. That poem did make a big impression on me. It not only illustrates just how deceiving appearances can be, it also demonstrates that money doesn’t buy happiness and that one never really knows what’s going on in another person mind.
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
read the rest here – there’s an audio reading and picture by Edouard Manet to go with it.
And here’s another poem about envy that gives a different set of reasons not to be jealous of other people that I found on Google Books. It was written by a gentleman named William A. Stephens who, while he never became a famous poet, had the distinction of contributing to Canada’s early poetry in the 1840’s by publishing the first volume of poetry in Upper Canada (Hamilton, and Other Poems, (Toronto, 1840).
ENVY NOT—A MORAL.
” Who can stand before Envy ?” — Solomon.
” Envy pines at good possessed.”—Cowper.
I envy Stanley Stone his wife —
A lovely woman she;
0! if I had her, I would have
A living luxury.
I envy Grey his handsome house,
Complete from sill to tile;
0 ! if I had it I would live
In such a handsome style.
1 envy Blue his two-in-hand;
What horses! what a rig!
If they were only mine I’d feel
So gentlemanly big.
I envy Brown those costly clothes,
His brilliant ring as well;
What right has he to dress so fine ?
The proud, conceited swell!
I envy Black his eloquence.
How he can plead a cause!
If I had such a tongue as his
I’d live upon applause !
I envy Green that wondrous voice.
Zounds! how the fellow sings!
If I had such a voice as his
I’d prouder be than kings.
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The greatest Mother’s Day poem in the world is without question the one you get from your kid, and that’s what’s up.
Here’s my Mother Day poem from my daughter:
The important thing about my mother is she’s always there
She also knows everything and even if she doesn’t,
She knows how to find out!
She can sew and iron, and make websites.
She can draw, knows about art and she knows French,
She knows a million songs and poems
She’s clever and resourceful and that ain’t all –
She’s a great cook. Her stuffed peppers are to die for.
She’s practical, she’s logical, she’s sensible,
She’s a beautiful woman.
But the most important thing about my mother is she’s always there.
I hope all you Moms had a great day and if you got a great poem, please share it.
Oh, I love this sonnet!
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
More sonnet pages:
Sonnet 1 – From fairest creatures we desire increase …
Sonnet 18 - Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day …
Sonnet 116 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds …
