The city’s steeple—towers remove a… Each singly; as each vain infatuat… Leaves God in heaven, and passes.… Each soon appears, so far. Yet th… The first is now scarce further or…

I never reared a young Wombat To glad me with his pin—hole eye, But when he most was sweet & fat And tail—less; he was sure to die!

I climbed the stair in Antwerp ch… What time the circling thews of so… At sunset seem to heave it round. Far up, the carillon did search The wind, and the birds came to pe…

DERE was an old nigger, and him… And him tale was rather slow; Me try to read de whole, but me on… Because me found it no go. Den hang up de auther Mrs. Stowe,

THIS tree, here fall’n, no commo… Shared with its kind. The world’s… Who found the trees of Life and K… Here set it, frailer than his laur… Shall not the wretch whose hand it…

Woolner and Stephens, Collinson,… And my first brother, each and eve… What portion is theirs now beneath… Which, even as here, in England m… For most of them life runs not the…

THAT voice I hear,—how heard I… Although my home is this, seems fr… There… still it trails along and m… Like the slow death of sound withi… Or like the humming whine in some…

In whomsoe’er, since Poesy began, A Poet most of all men we may sca… Burns of all poets is the most a…

Our Lombard country-girls along t… Wear daggers in their garters: for… That they might hate another girl… Or meet a German lover. Such a kn… I bought her, with a hilt of horn…

To—day Death seems to me an infan… Which her worn mother Life upon m… Has set to grow my friend and play… If haply so my heart might be begu… To find no terrors in a face so mi…

THERE is a big artist named Val… The roughs’ and the prize—fighters… The mind of a groom And the head of a broom Were Nature’s endowments to Val.

Silesian shepherd, blesed be The sequel of that history That I have read with heart elate… Entwining it with my own fate; So dear to me the visions seem

Thin are the night-skirts left beh… By daybreak hours that onward cree… And thin, alas! the shred of sleep That wavers with the spirit’s wind… But in half-dreams that shift and…

O thou who at Love’s hour ecstati… Unto my heart dost evermore presen… Clothed with his fire, thy heart h… Whom I have neared and felt thy b… The inmost incense of his sanctuar…

“THE silver cord is loosed,” he s… “The golden bowl is broken; A few more prayers having been pra… A few more love—words spoken, I shall turn my face unto the wall…