#Pennsylvania
Long had I loved this “Attic shap… Of marble maidens round this urn d… But when your golden voice began t… The empty urn was filled with Chi…
The land was broken in despair, The princes quarrelled in the dark… When clear and tranquil, through t… Of selfish minds and wills that di… Your star arose, Jeanne d’Arc.
All night long, by a distant bell, The passing hours were notched On the dark, while her breathing r… And the spark of life I watched In her face was glowing or fading,…
The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o’er them in the sunset hour Looms, dark and huge, St. Rombold… High in that rugged nest concealed…
For that thy face is fair I love… Nor yet because the light of thy b… Hath gleams of wonder and of glad… Like woodland streams that cross a… Nor for thy beauty, born without a…
Long, long ago I heard a little s… (Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday… So lowly, slowly wound the tune al… That far into my heart it found th… A melody consoling and endearing;
Joyful, joyful we adore Thee, God… Hearts unfold like flowers before… Melt the clouds of sin and sadness… Giver of immortal gladness, fill u… All Thy works with joy surround T…
The glory of ships is an old, old… since the days when the sea—rovers… In their open boats through the ro… and the spread of the world began; The glory of ships is a light on t…
To thee, plain hero of a rugged ra… We bring the meed of praise too lo… Thy fearless word and faithful wor… For God’s Republic firmer path an… In this New World: thou hast proc…
Oh, quick to feel the lightest tou… Of beauty or of truth, Rich in the thoughtfulness of age, The hopefulness of youth, The courage of the gentle heart,
Glory of architect, glory of paint… Living forever in temple and pictu… Look how the world with the lights… Brief was the flame of their life,… Where is the Master of Music, and…
A soft veil dims the tender skies, And half conceals from pensive eye… The bronzing tokens of the fall; A calmness broods upon the hills, And summer’s parting dream distill…
There are songs for the morning an… For sunrise and sunset, the stars… But who will give praise to the fu… And sing us a song of the glory of… Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The melancholy gift Aurora gained From Jove, that her sad lover sho… The face of death, no goddess aske… My Keats! But when the crimson bl… Thy pillow, thou didst read the fa…
A little fir grew in the midst of… Contented and happy, as young tree… His body was straight and his boug… And summer and winter the bountifu… Of his needles bedecked him, from…
