LONG ago, on a bright spring day… I passed a little child at play; And as I passed, in childish glee She called to me, “Come and play… But my eyes were fixed on a far-of…

Who knows the deeps, where the wat… Leagues from the light away? Who knows the heights, where myria… Fill heaven with endless day? The earth goes on—seeks and loses…

Not here in the populous town, In the playhouse or mart, Not here in the ways gray and brow… Bnt afar on the green-swelling dow… Is the home of my heart.

Hark! ’tis the rush of the horses, The crash of the galloping gun! The stars are out of their courses… The hour of Doom has begun. Leap from thy scabbard, O sword!

White-faced Winter Roses, O’er the grave I plant you Where the dead reposes, That a soul may haunt you, And your ghostly whiteness

O CHANTRY of the Cherubim, Down-looking on the stream! Beneath thy boughs the day grows d… Through windows comes the gleam; A thousand raptures fill the air,

As strong, as deep, as wide as is… Though by the wind made restless a… By billows fretted and by rocks co… So strong, so deep, so wide my lov… And as the sea; though oft huge wa…

An acorn swung On an oak-tree bough; So long it had hung, It would fain fall now To the kindly earth,

‘HERE’ Soft benediction of September sun… Voices of children, laughing as th… Green English lawns, bright flowe… And over all the blue embracing sk…

HE came to call me back from deat… To the bright world above. I hear him yet with trembling brea… Low calling, “O sweet love! Come back! The earth is just as f…

If one should strive to reach a st… He would not build a ladder high, Seek foot by foot to climb so far, And step by step ascend the sky; But he would seek the wild bird’s…

The dews were on the hedges, The mist was on the mead, When down among the sedges I wrought my pipe of reed. I blew my pipe with power.

THE LARK above our heads doth k… A heaven we see not here below; She sees it, and for joy she sings… Then falls with ineffectual wings. Ah, soaring soul! faint not nor ti…

She turned the page of wounds and… With trembling fingers. In a brea… The gladness of her life became Naught but a memory and a name. Farewell! Farewell! I might not s…

What have I given, Bold sailor on the sea? In earth or heaven, That you should die for me? What can I give,