Long, long ago, ere yet our race b… When earth was empty, waiting stil… Before the breath of life to him w… The angels fell into a strife in h… At length one furious demon graspe…

O Science, reaching backward thro… Most earnest child of God, Exposing all the secrets of existe… With thy divining rod, I bid thee speed up to the heights…

As I go and shop, sir! If a car I stop, sir! Where you chance to sit, And you want to read, sir! Never mind or heed, sir!

A humble wild-rose, pink and slend… Was plucked and placed in a bright… Beside a Jacqueminot’s royal sple… And both in my lady’s boudoir lay. Said the haughty bud, in a tone of…

Walking to-day on the Common, I heard a stranger say To a friend who was standing near… ‘Do you know I am going away? ’ I had never seen their faces,

Of a thousand things that the Yea… The busy Old Year who has gone aw… How many will rise in the Spring,… Brought to life by the sun of May… Will the rose-tree branches, so wh…

The stork flew over a town one day… And back of each wing an infant la… One to a rich man’s home he brough… And one he left at a labourer’s co… The rich man said, ‘My son shall…

All perfect things are saddening i… The autumn wood robed in its scarl… The matchless tinting on the royal… Whose velvet leaf by no least flaw… Love’s supreme moment, when the so…

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…

If all the ships I have at sea Should come a-sailing home to me, From sunny lands, and lands of col… Ah well! the harbor could not hold So many sails as there would be

I dreamed a Voice, of one God-aut… Cried loudly thro’ the world, ‘Di… And there was consernation in the… And men who strutted under braid a… Beat on their medalled breasts, an…

The passion you forbade my lips to… Will not be silenced. You must he… The sullen thunders when they roll… And when the tempest nears, with w… I know your calm forgetfulness is…

They say the world is round, and y… I often think it square, So many little hurts we get From corners here and there. But one great truth in life I’ve…

Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot; Or so the unperceiving thought, Who looked no deeper than her face… Devoid of chiselled lines of grace… No farther than her humble grate,

The God of the day has vanished, The light from the hills has fled, And the hand of an unseen artist Is painting the west all red. All threaded with gold and crimson…