When you go away, my friend, When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end, And the winter will be nigh. Though the green grass decks the h…

If it were in my dead Past’s powe… To let my Present bask In some lost pleasure for an hour, This is the boon I’d ask: Re-pedestal from out the dust

The danger of war, with its havoc… The danger of ocean, when storms a… The danger of jungles, where wild… The danger that lies in the mounta… Why, what are they but all mere ch…

Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast h… The priceless riches of all climes… Say, woudst thou let it float upon… Unpiloted, of fickle winds the spo… And of wild waves and hidden rocks…

To-day I was so weary and I lay In that delicious state of semi-wa… When baby, sitting with his nurse… Cried loud for “mamma,” all his to… I was so weary and I needed rest,

GOOD-BYE to the cradle, the dea… The rude hand of Progress has thr… No more to its motion o’er sleep’s… Our play-weary wayfarers peacefull… No more by the rhythm of slow-movi…

She sits beside the window. All… Turn once again to gaze on her swe… She is so fair; but soon, too soon… To lie down in her last resting-pl… No gems are brighter than her spar…

We two make home of any place we g… We two find joy in any kind of wea… Or if the earth is clothed in bloo… If summer days invite, or bleak wi… What matters it if we two are toge…

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…

‘Twas just a slight flirtation, And where’s the harm, I pray, In that amusing pastime So much in vogue to-day? Her hand was plighted elsewhere

I saw the farmer, when the day was… And the proud sun had sought his c… And the mild stars came forward on… I saw the sturdy farmer, and I sa… ‘What have you done to-day,

Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss the purpose of this li… and do not wait for circumstance to mold or change your fate. In your own self lies destiny.

He never made a fortune, or a nois… In the world where men are seeking… But he had a healthy brood of girl… Who loved the very ground on which… They thought him just little short…

I know as my life grows older, And mine eyes have clearer sight, That under each rank of wrong, som… There lies the root of right; That each sorrow has its purpose,

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...