Skip to content
Linespedia

At A Birthday Festival - To J. R. Lowell

By Oliver Wendell Holmes

Topics: classic

We will not speak of years to-night, -     For what have years to bring     But larger floods of love and light,     And sweeter songs to sing?     We will not drown in wordy praise     The kindly thoughts that rise;     If Friendship own one tender phrase,     He reads it in our eyes.     We need not waste our school-boy art     To gild this notch of Time; -     Forgive me if my wayward heart     Has throbbed in artless rhyme.     Enough for him the silent grasp     That knits us hand in hand,     And he the bracelet's radiant clasp     That locks our circling band.     Strength to his hours of manly toil!     Peace to his starlit dreams!     Who loves alike the furrowed soil,     The music-haunted streams!     Sweet smiles to keep forever bright     The sunshine on his lips,     And faith that sees the ring of light     Round nature's last eclipse!     February 22, 1859.

AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.

About this line

"We will not speak of years to-night, - ..."

Exploring the themes of classic, Oliver Wendell Holmes delivers a powerful performance in "At A Birthday Festival - To J. R. Lowell"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

Attribution & Rights

Author:Oliver Wendell Holmes

"We will not speak of years to-night, - ..." by Oliver Wendell Holmes

For usage rights, copyright concerns, or to report an issue with this content, please visit our Copyright & Report page.

Related lines

"The house was crammed from roof to floor,     Heads piled on heads at every door;     Half dead with August's seething heat     I crowded on an"

"Yon whey-faced brother, who delights to wear     A weedy flux of ill-conditioned hair,     Seems of the sort that in a crowded place     One el"

""How many have gone?" was the question of old     Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;     Alas! for too often the death-bell has toll"

"We count the broken lyres that rest     Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,     But o'er their silent sister's breast     The wild-flowers"

"Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met     Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky,     And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet,     S"

"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Oliver Wendell Holmes

About Oliver Wendell Holmes

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. (1809–1894) was an American poet, physician, and essayist. His poems "Old Ironsides" and "The Chambered Nautilus" are American classics. He was part of the Fireside Poets group.

Full Bibliography
Continue Reading

"The house was crammed from roof to floor,     Head..."

Weekly Poetic Insight

Join our literary Sanctuary

Get the most inspiring lines, poetic analysis, and secret shayaris delivered to your inbox every Sunday.