When night hung low and dew fell d… There fell athwart the shadows The gleaming watchfires of the cam… Like glow-worms on the meadows. The sentinel his measured beat

There is a certain castle that is… And plants, and birds, and pretty… But alas! for the unhappy folks wh… A dreadful ogre haunts the house a… Some day I fear will find them de…

Now what were the words of Jesus, And what would He pause and say, If we were to meet in home or stre… The Lord of the world to-day? Oh, I think He would pause and sa…

(After James Thomson) As I came through the Valley of… As I came through the valley, onm… More awful that the darkness of th… Shone glimpses of a Past that had…

Lie still and rest, in that serene… That on this holy morning comes to… Who have been burdened with the ca… The sad heart weary and the tired… Lie still and rest -

A lovely little keeper of the home… Absorbed in menu books, yet erudit… When I need counsel; quick at rep… And slow to anger. Modest as a f… Yet scintillant and radiant as a s…

As when the old moon lighted by th… And radiant crescent of the new is… And for a moment’s space suggests… Of what in its full prime it once… So on my waning years you cast the…

Well, Mabel, ’tis over and ended—… The ball I wrote was to be; And oh! it was perfectly splendid—… If you could have been here to see… I’ve a thousand things to write yo…

And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet Centennial lays, My muse goes wandering backward,

My heart is like a little bird That sits and sings for very gladn… Sorrow is some forgotten word, And so, except in rhyme, is sadnes… The world is very fair to me—

Let the dream go. Are there not o… In vastness of clouds hid from thy… That yet shall gild with beautiful… And shoot the shadows through and… What matters one lost vision of th…

He who possesses virtue at its bes… Or greatness in the true sense of… Has one day started even with that… Whose swift feet now speed, but at… It is the same force in the human…

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…

Oh, vain is the stern protesting Of winds, when the tide runs high; And vainly the deep-sea waters Call out, as the waves speed by; For, deaf to the claim of the ocea…

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