In the journey of life, as we trav… To the mystical goal that is hidde… You may stumble at times into Roa… Not seeing the sign-board that poi… Through caverns of sorrow your fee…

If you are sighing for a lofty wor… If great ambitions dominate your m… Just watch yourself and see you do… The common little ways of being ki… If you are dreaming of a future go…

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,…

I step across the mystic border-la… And look upon the wonder-world of… How beautiful, how beautiful its h… And all its valleys, how surpassin… The winding paths that lead up to…

Sometimes she seems so helpless an… So full of sweet unreason and so w… So prone to some capricious whim o… Now gay, now tearful, and now ange… By her strange moods of waywardnes…

There is no progress in the world… However wise and wonderful they ar… Their wisdom makes not increase.… To wider goals, in that tense stri… A Sovereign Ruler? Forth from f…

On the sea of life they floated, Brothers twain in manhood’s pride, And the good ship 'Temperance’ bo… Safely o’er the stormy tide. Not a thought of rock or breaker,

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,

You may thrill with the speed of y… You may laugh with delight as you… You may rush afar in your touring… Leaping, sweeping, by things that… But you never will know the joy of…

If all the year was summer time, And all the aim of life Was just to lilt on like a rhyme, Then I would be your wife. If all the days were August days,

Friend of my youth, let us talk of… Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christma… And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my f…

Every morning, as I walk down From my dreary lodgings, toward th… I see at a window, near the street… The face of a woman, fair and swee… With soft brown eyes and chestnut…

Always at sea I think about the d… On barques invisible they seem to… The self-same course; and from the… Then I recall old words that they… And see their faces etched upon th…

The father sits in his lonely room… Outside sings a little bird. But the shadows are laden with dea… And the song is all unheard. The father’s heart is the home of…

When from dawn till noon seems one… And from noon till night another, Oh, then should a little boy come… And creep into the arms of his mot… Snugly creep and fall asleep,