Poems by Thomas Dunn English | Poetree

All Poems Original Poems Translations

Songs: The Old Mill

Songs: The Old Mill

HERE from the brow of the hill I look,

Through a lattice of boughs and leaves,

On the old gray mill with its gambrel roof,

And the moss on its rotting eaves.

I hear the clatter that jars its walls,

And the rushing water’s sound,

And I see the black floats rise and fall

As the wheel goes slowly round.

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Thomas Dunn English

"Psyche Loves Me"

"Psyche Loves Me"

I have no gold, no lands, no robes of splendor,

No crowd of sycophants to siege my door;

But fortune in one thing at least is tender--

For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?

I have no fame, nor to the height of honor

Will my poor name on tireless pinions soar;

Yet Fate has never drawn my hate upon her--

For Psyche loves me1!Could I ask for more?

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Thomas Dunn English

The Battle of New Orleans

The Battle of New Orleans

Here, in my rude log cabin,

Few poorer men there be

Among the mountain ranges

Of Eastern Tennessee.

My limbs are weak and shrunken,

White hairs upon my brow,

My dog — lie still, old fellow! —

My sole companion now.

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Thomas Dunn English

Ben Bolt

Ben Bolt

Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,—

Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown,

Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile,

And trembled with fear at your frown?

In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt,

In a corner obscure and alone,

They have fitted a slab of the granite so gray,

And Alice lies under the stone.

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Thomas Dunn English

Haymaking

Haymaking

Their homage men pay to the mowing machine

Which does all the work of a dozen as one,

And, cutting a passageway smoothly and keen,

Keeps steadily on till its labor is done;

But I like to remember the primitive way

When I joined with my fellows to gather the hay,

And labor was pleasantly tempered by play.

The sweep of the scythe as it came and it went,

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Thomas Dunn English