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

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…

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…

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.

Light falls the rain On link and laine, After the burning day; And the bright scene, Blue, gold, and green,

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…

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…

Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live, when flowers are at… And overhead the happy swallows tw… Only to live! There nothing is mo…

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…

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!

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,

Across the Glory of the glowing s… A veil is drawn of shadowed mists… From lavishness from God’s late g… So, after farewell said, fond memo… Of words and looks, now over, come…

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…

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