The Delian diver wrecked her life… A pearl she saw by Visionary glea… And died with empty hand that coul… The treasure only Real in her dre…

HAS Man a spirit that’s more tha… A spirit that walks in sleep or in… Shakes off at will its dust of the… And, waking by night, goes wanderi… To work its wish with a noiseless…

Although its features fade in ligh… We have shadowy revealings of the… A little glimpse, when Spring unv… Of the Sleeping Beauty in the sou… A little drop of Heaven in each d…

We thank Thee, Lord, for one day To look Heaven in the face! The Poor have only Sunday; The sweeter is the grace. 'Tis then they make the music

A MERRY sound of clapping hands… A call to see the sight; And lo! the first soft snow-flakes… So exquisitely virginal: 'Tis my wee Nell at window stands…

WE are not only where we seem To live, but in some Astral gleam Dwell also in a world of dream! Some heavenward window opes above The shut-up soul, to lean out of,

Dear things! we would not have you… Your Ignorance is so charming! We… That greater knowledge might not l… Sure aid to blind obedience and de…

No green age, beautiful to see, Hath Poor Old Gran! No ripe life mellowed goldenly Hath Poor Old Gran! One by one we have left her fold,

Slow step by step, day after day, I journey on my homeward way; And darkly dream the Land of Ligh… Is drawing near, night after night… Where I shall reach my Rest at la…

Dark, dark the night, and tearfull… Lost in the Shadows, feeling for… But cannot find it. Here’s no hel… And God is very far off with His… Hush, hush, faint heart! why this…

I sometimes think that Shakespear… To me that very self so long conce… But if his soul my soul has lighte… I sometimes think it was to gaze o… To find, with loving wonder in his…

Oft in the night I am with you, D… I lean and listen your breathing t… Little you dream of any one near. No one knoweth that I am gone; Curtains closely about me drawn,

There are two Heavens for natures… And calm as thine, my gentle Love… One Heaven but reflected here; One Heaven that waits above: As yonder Lake, in Evening’s red,

You are the Merry men, dwarfs of… Who can get your hand through the… And make your bells jingle outside… Prove there’s life beyond, and on… 'Tis trying to find that we are mo…

TRUE Poets conquer Glory—do not… It; do not beg their way to Fame; Nor at her skirts in private bend… Nor sow the public broadcast with… They are the great High Priests o…