We will lay our summer away, my fr… So tenderly lay it away. It was bright and sweet to the ver… Like one long, golden day. Nothing sweeter could come to me,

There was a man, it was said one t… Who went astray in his youthful pr… Can the brain keep cool and the he… When the blood is a river that’s r… And boys will be boys the old folk…

God, what a world, if men in stree… Felt that same kinship of the huma… Which makes them, in the face of f… Rise to the meaning of True Broth…

‘Little kids,’ you call us As we are at play. You were little children Just the other day. Now to-morrow nears us,

Somebody’s baby was buried to-day… The empty white hearse from the gr… And the morning somehow seemed les… As I paused on the sidewalk while… And a shadow seemed drawn o’er the…

Veils, everywhere float veils; vei… Framing white faces, oft-times you… But, like a rose touched by untime… Showing the blighting marks of sor… Veils, veils, veils everywhere. T…

Each day that I live I am persuad… A maxim I long have believed in,… Each day I grow firmer in this, m… Strong drink causes half the world… Do I take up a paper, I read of a…

In Memory’s Mansion are wonderful… And I wander about them at will; And I pause at the casements, whe… Are sending sweet scents o’er the… I lean from a window that looks on…

‘The maiden free, the maiden wed. Can never, never be the same, A new life springs from out the de… And with the speaking of a name– A breath upon the marriage bed,

I have been across the bridges of… Wet with tears Were the ties on which I trod, go… Down the track To the valley where I left, 'neat…

I, at Eleusis, saw the finest sig… When early morning’s banners were… From high Olympus, gazing on the… The ancient gods once saw it with… Sad Demeter had in a single night

Among the twelve hundred poems which have emanated from my too prolific pen there are some forty or fifty which treat entirely of that emotion which has been denominated “the grand pass...

In the dark night, from sweet refr… I wake to hear outside my window-p… The uncurbed fury of the wild spri… And weird winds lashing the defian… And roar of floods that gather str…

They prize not most the opulence o… Who from the year’s beginning to i… Dwell, where unfading verdure tire… And where sweet summer’s harp is k… We must have listened to the winte…

Do you know what moves the tides As they swing from low to high? ’Tis the love, love, love, Of the moon within the sky. Oh! they follow where she guides,