Poems by Isaac McLellan

Poems by Isaac McLellan

The Scenery and Game of Wyoming Territory, by Isaac McLellan

Twilight silently, softly falls,
Touching valley and grove with misty wand,
Kissing the sky ...

The Sand-Hill Crane and Other Wild Fowl of Mexico, by Isaac McLellan

Here in this genial Mexic land,
Where soft is breeze and bright the skies,
Gay summer in Dece...

Rhinoceros Hunting, by Isaac McLellan

For days the hunter march'd o'er wooded hills
And mountain ranges, frowning like great forts
W...

Wolf, by Isaac McLellan

In winter, when the snows lie deep
In shapeless hillock, drifted heap;
When thick the hollow...

The Ocean, by Isaac McLellan

Morn on the Summer Sea--the breaking light
Is trembling on the mountain's misty height,
And up...

The Little Sunfish of the Brook, by Isaac McLellan

I remember those gay dawnings when life was fresh and new,
The rising mist above the vale, the...

Panther in Louisiana, by Isaac McLellan

The flushing dawn had scarcely tipt
The morning clouds with flecks of gold,
Flush'd the dusk w...

Polar Bear, by Isaac McLellan

Amid the vast, eternal ice,
The crystal plain, the drifting floe,
Dark chasm, awful precip...

The Little Chickadee Warbler of the Winter Woods, by Isaac McLellan

The brown chickadee still chirps on the tree,
Though it yields scanty wealth of larvae and bee,...

On the Sudden and Violent Death of a Schoolmate, by Isaac McLellan

Farewell, farewell! This changeful earth
Hath nought of joy, of love, or mirth
In store for ...

The Notes of the Birds, by Isaac McLellan

Well do I love those various harmonies
That ring so gaily in Spring's budding woods,
And in th...

Nature's Invitation, by Isaac McLellan

O'er the fair face of Nature let us muse,
And dream by lapsing stream and drooping wood;
Trea...

My Dogs Sancho and Neptune, by Isaac McLellan

You know, my dear Sancho, the shooting is o'er,
That the gun o'er the meadows may thunder no ...

Mutations, by Isaac McLellan

After a lengthened life, I walk again
The woodland mazes, in whose secret paths
My childhood ...

Long Island in Late October, by Isaac McLellan

October's flaming banners, of purple and of gold,
O'er all the bowery woodland, are flaunting...