Why are thou sad, my Beppo? But… Here at my feet, thy dear head on… I heard thee say thy heart would n… Or feel the olden ennui and unrest… What troubles thee? Am I not all…

ust a changing sea of colour Surging up and flowing down; And pagodas shining golden, night… And a sun-burst-tinted throng Of young priests that move along

There’s many a house of grandeur, With turret, tower and dome, That knows not peace or comfort, And does not prove a home. I do not ask for splendor

This is the song for a soldier To sing as he rides from home To the fields afar where the battl… Or over the ocean’s foam: ‘Whatever the dangers waiting

However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes, With flaunting flags and neighing… And echoing roll of drums; Still truth proclaims this motto

The saddest hour of anguish and of… Is not that season of supreme desp… When we can find no least light an… To gild the dread, black shadow of… Not in that luxury of sorrow when

In the silent midnight watches, When the earth was clothed in gloo… And the grim and awful darkness Crept unbidden to my room– On the solemn, deathly stillness

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…

Here now, for evermore, our lives… My path leads there, and yours ano… What shall we do with this fond lo… It grows a heavier burden day by d… Hide it? In all earth’s caverns,…

There was a boy named Grumble Ton… ‘I’m sick of things on land,' he s… A life upon the bounding wave is j… But the seething ocean billows fai… For he did not like the vessel or…

They tell me new methods now gover… The modes of expression have chang… That low is the rank of the poet w… The old-fashioned verse with inten… And quite out of date, too, is rhy…

I do not undertake to say That literal answers come from He… But I know this—that when I pray A comfort, a support is given That helps me rise o’er earthly th…

Of all the blessings which my life… I value most, and most praise God… Want, Loneliness and Pain, those… Who, masquerade in the garb of foe… For many a year, and filled my hea…

These quiet Autumn days, My soul, like Noah’s dove, on air… Goes out and searches for the hidd… Beyond the hills of haze. With mournful, pleading cries,