There’s not a fibre in my tremblin… That does not vibrate when thy ste… There’s not a pulse that throbs no… Thy voice, thy breathing, nay thy… When thou art with me every sense…

Flying leaves the wild Spring sca… From the silver blossomed trees, Let them fall’€”it little matters; Fresh-born buds will greet each br… Flying leaves, grim Winter strewi…

Rest, warrior, rest! thine hour is… Thy longest war-whoop, and thy las… Still rings upon the rushing blast… That o’er thy grave sweeps drearil… Rest, warrior, rest! thy haughty b…

Fallen from thy parent bough, Poor wither’d leaf, where goest th… From the mountain to the vale, From the forest to the hill I flutter, carried by the gale,

Is it a sin, to wish that I may m… In that dim world whither our spir… When sleep and darkness follow lif… Is it a sin, that there my voice s… With all that love that I must di…

Were they but dreams? Upon the da… Evening comes down, the wings of f… On which the day soared to the sun… The moon sits calmly like a soul a… Looking upon the never-resting ear…

Merciful spirit! who thy bright th… Hast left, to wander through this… With me, poor child of sin!'€”Ang… Whose guardian wings hung o’er me… And who still walk’st unwearied by…

THE FIRST SNOW MOUNT… Look, love, to yonder mountain’s b… Seest thou that beckoning hand of… Stern Winter dares no farther com… But waves me towards his northern…

I look along the dusty dreary way, So lately strew’d with blossoms fr… The sweet procession of the year i… And wither’d whirling leaves run r… Like throngs of tatter’d beggars f…

I am alone’€”oh be thou near to me… Great God! from whom the meanest… Not in presumption of the daring s… Striving to find the secrets of it… Make I my weeping prayer; in the…

Oh make not light of love, my lady… For, from that sweetest source dot… All that is likest heaven on earth… Ill it beseems who worthiest love… To scoff at their own worship;—if…

If I believed in death, how sweet… For such a blessed slumber could… Beneath the blue and sparkling cov… Of that smooth sea, stirred by no… Oh if I could but die, and be at…

’Twas a fit hour for parting, For athwart the leaden sky The heavy clouds came gathering And sailing gloomily: The earth was drunk with heaven’s…

The waterfall is calling me With its merry gleesome flow, And the green boughs are beckoning… To where the wild flowers grow: I may not go, I may not go,

Early in life, when hope seems pro… And strong desire can sometimes mo… My dream was of thy shores, O Ita… Of thy blue deep, that even for a… Will not forsake its spicy pine-gi…