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283 Works of Bret Harte

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(MASSACHUSETTS SHORE, 1800) I mind it was but yesterday: The sun was dim, the air was chill; Below the town, below the hill, The sails of my son’s ship did fill,– My Jacob, who was cast away. He said, “God keep you, mother dear,” But did not turn to kiss his wife; They had some […]

"Twenty Years"

Story type: Poetry

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Beg your pardon, old fellow! I think I was dreaming just now when you spoke. The fact is, the musical clink Of the ice on your wine-goblet’s brink A chord of my memory woke. And I stood in the pasture-field where Twenty summers ago I had stood; And I heard in that sound, I declare, […]

Dickens In Camp

Story type: Poetry

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“Dickens In Camp” is held by many admirers of Bret Harte to be his masterpiece of verse. The poem is so held for the evident sincerity and depth of feeling it displays as well as for the unusual quality of its poetic expression. Bret Harte has been generally accepted as the one American writer who […]

Over the chimney the night-wind sang And chanted a melody no one knew; And the Woman stopped, as her babe she tossed, And thought of the one she had long since lost, And said, as her teardrops back she forced, “I hate the wind in the chimney.” Over the chimney the night-wind sang And chanted […]

To A Sea-Bird

Story type: Poetry

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(SANTA CRUZ, 1869) Sauntering hither on listless wings, Careless vagabond of the sea, Little thou heedest the surf that sings, The bar that thunders, the shale that rings,– Give me to keep thy company. Little thou hast, old friend, that’s new; Storms and wrecks are old things to thee; Sick am I of these changes, […]

Dolly Varden

Story type: Poetry

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Dear Dolly! who does not recall The thrilling page that pictured all Those charms that held our sense in thrall Just as the artist caught her,– As down that English lane she tripped, In bowered chintz, hat sideways tipped, Trim-bodiced, bright-eyed, roguish-lipped,– The locksmith’s pretty daughter? Sweet fragment of the Master’s art! O simple faith! […]

Address

Story type: Poetry

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(OPENING OF THE CALIFORNIA THEATRE, SAN FRANCISCO, JANUARY 19, 1870) Brief words, when actions wait, are well: The prompter’s hand is on his bell; The coming heroes, lovers, kings, Are idly lounging at the wings; Behind the curtain’s mystic fold The glowing future lies unrolled; And yet, one moment for the Past, One retrospect,–the first […]

The Two Ships

Story type: Poetry

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As I stand by the cross on the lone mountain’s crest, Looking over the ultimate sea, In the gloom of the mountain a ship lies at rest, And one sails away from the lea: One spreads its white wings on a far-reaching track, With pennant and sheet flowing free; One hides in the shadow with […]

Alnaschar

Story type: Poetry

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Here’s yer toy balloons! All sizes! Twenty cents for that. It rises Jest as quick as that ‘ere, Miss, Twice as big. Ye see it is Some more fancy. Make it square Fifty for ’em both. That’s fair. That’s the sixth I’ve sold since noon. Trade’s reviving. Just as soon As this lot’s worked off, […]

Lone Mountain

Story type: Poetry

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(CEMETERY, SAN FRANCISCO) This is that hill of awe That Persian Sindbad saw,– The mount magnetic; And on its seaward face, Scattered along its base, The wrecks prophetic. Here come the argosies Blown by each idle breeze, To and fro shifting; Yet to the hill of Fate All drawing, soon or late,– Day by day […]

(SEQUOIA GIGANTEA) Brown foundling of the Western wood, Babe of primeval wildernesses! Long on my table thou hast stood Encounters strange and rude caresses; Perchance contented with thy lot, Surroundings new, and curious faces, As though ten centuries were not Imprisoned in thy shining cases. Thou bring’st me back the halcyon days Of grateful rest, […]

Name of my heroine, simply “Rose;” Surname, tolerable only in prose; Habitat, Paris,–that is where She resided for change of air; Aetat twenty; complexion fair; Rich, good looking, and debonnaire; Smarter than Jersey lightning. There! That’s her photograph, done with care. In Paris, whatever they do besides, EVERY LADY IN FULL DRESS RIDES! Moire antiques […]

Above the bones St. Ursula owns, And those of the virgins she chaperons; Above the boats, And the bridge that floats, And the Rhine and the steamers’ smoky throats; Above the chimneys and quaint-tiled roofs, Above the clatter of wheels and hoofs; Above Newmarket’s open space, Above that consecrated place Where the genuine bones of […]

"Crotalus"

Story type: Poetry

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(RATTLESNAKE BAR, SIERRAS) No life in earth, or air, or sky; The sunbeams, broken silently, On the bared rocks around me lie,– Cold rocks with half-warmed lichens scarred, And scales of moss; and scarce a yard Away, one long strip, yellow-barred. Lost in a cleft! ‘Tis but a stride To reach it, thrust its roots […]

O bells that rang, O bells that sang Above the martyrs’ wilderness, Till from that reddened coast-line sprang The Gospel seed to cheer and bless, What are your garnered sheaves to-day? O Mission bells! Eleison bells! O Mission bells of Monterey! O bells that crash, O bells that clash Above the chimney-crowded plain, On wall […]

An empty bench, a sky of grayest etching, A bare, bleak shed in blackest silhouette, Twelve years of platform, and before them stretching Twelve miles of prairie glimmering through the wet. North, south, east, west,–the same dull gray persistence, The tattered vapors of a vanished train, The narrowing rails that meet to pierce the distance, […]

The Old Camp-Fire

Story type: Poetry

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Now shift the blanket pad before your saddle back you fling, And draw your cinch up tighter till the sweat drops from the ring: We’ve a dozen miles to cover ere we reach the next divide. Our limbs are stiffer now than when we first set out to ride, And worse, the horses know it, […]

O joy of creation To be! O rapture to fly And be free! Be the battle lost or won, Though its smoke shall hide the sun, I shall find my love,–the one Born for me! I shall know him where he stands, All alone, With the power in his hands Not o’erthrown; I shall know […]

“So she’s here, your unknown Dulcinea, the lady you met on the train, And you really believe she would know you if you were to meet her again?” “Of course,” he replied, “she would know me; there never was womankind yet Forgot the effect she inspired. She excuses, but does not forget.” “Then you told […]

Wondering maiden, so puzzled and fair, Why dost thou murmur and ponder and stare? “Why are my eyelids so open and wild?” Only the better to see with, my child! Only the better and clearer to view Cheeks that are rosy and eyes that are blue. Dost thou still wonder, and ask why these arms […]