Who sees him walk the street, can… To question thus his friend, What… So much hath Nature, as ’tis oft… Stamped inward trickery on the out… And yet, with her great interdicti…

His Mind alone is Kingly, who (th… But venerates of present Things o… What he believeth Good; kneeling… Save God and Truth! Who, awed no… And shadowy Scheme of Life, but a…

’TIS the early summer season, whe… When wide warm fields are glad wit… And upland growths of wattles engo… Oh! Is there conscious joyance in… And is it a felt happiness that th…

Rising and setting Suns of Libert… Mountainous Exploits; and the Wre… By stormy Passion o’er Life’s tre… Relieved by Shores of green delig… And starry Dreams, and the serene…

My work is finished that has been… My only solace for this many a day… But whether it in other company May so beguile the time and hue th… Of loneliness and thought, I dare…

We build but for change and for de… To whom a like homage pay glory an… For something must pass to give be… All things are rounded by change,… Even the God-builded frame of the…

Hapless is he who meditates the N… Where Trade is all in all, intent… Enduring Verse! for none will dee… His “divine art,” however he be sk… There Taste, like Beauty by the h…

DOWNWARD, through the blooming… Of a lonely forest bower, Come the yellow sunbeams,—falling Like a burning shower: So through heaven’s starry ceiling

With a resplendent Eastern bride, Like a houri at my side, And music round us swelling, ’Mid odours of so rare a steam That like a breath of love they se…

A STREAMLET is a bright and b… In some wide desert, where it keep… Of each wayfarer’s heart: The Star of Evening is a gracious… Instinct as ’twere with all the lo…

Words are deeds. The words we hea… May revolutionize or rear A mighty state. The words we read May be a spiritual deed Excelling any fleshly one,

I SEE the boy-bard neath life’s… While hope’s bright cohorts guess… And ardour lightens from his earne… And faith’s cherubic wings around… Loudly the echo of his soul repeat…

FIT winding-sheet for thee Was the upheaving eternal sea, Fit dirge the tempest’s slave-alar… For yokeless as the waves alway Thy thoughts went sounding forth,…

Could we as mortals but our end fo… How little in our minds the world… Could we as spirits but this life… And be again incarnate as we were, How little might be done like what…

THE PAST is flowing through my… Flowing like a sea; With all its billows dancing brigh… Over what?—an undermight Of darkling loss and destiny.