Yours is a garden of old—fashioned… Joyous children delight to play th… Weary men find rest in its bowers, Watching the lingering light of da… Old—time tunes and young love’s la…
Give us a name to fill the mind With the shining thoughts that lea… The glory of learning, the joy of… A name that tells of a splendid pa… In the long, long toil and the str…
This is the soldier brave enough t… The glory—dazzled world that `war… Lover of peace, he looks beyond th… And rides through hell to save his…
O Music hast thou only heard The laughing river, the singing bi… The murmuring wind in the poplar—t… Nothing but Nature’s melodies? Nay, thou hearest all her tones,
Through many a land your journey r… And showed the best the world can… Now tell me, traveller, if you can… The place that pleased you most." She laid her hands upon my breast,
THE HOUSE The cornerstone in Truth is laid, The guardian walls of Honour made… The roof of Faith is built above, The fire upon the hearth is Love:
They who tread the path of labor f… They who work without complaining,… Nevermore thou needest seek me; I… Raise the stone, and thou shalt fi… Where the many toil together, ther…
Now in the oak the sap of life is… Tho’ to the bough the rusty leafag… Now on the elm the misty buds are… See how the pine—wood grows alive… Blue—jays fluttering, yodeling and…
Count not the cost of honour to th… The tribute that a mighty nation p… To those who loved her well in for… Means more than gratitude for glor… For every noble man that she hath…
'Tis fine to see the Old World, a… Among the famous palaces and citie… To admire the crumbly castles and… But now I think I’ve had enough o… So it’s home again, and home again…
If on the closed curtain of my sig… My fancy paints thy portrait far a… I see thee still the same, by nigh… Crossing the crowded street, or mo… 'Mid festal throngs, or reading by…
Time is Too Slow for those who Wait, Too Swift for those who Fear, Too Long for those who Grieve, Too Short for those who Rejoice;
I love thine inland seas, Thy groves of giant trees, Thy rolling plains; Thy rivers’ mighty sweep, Thy mystic canyons deep,
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,
Mother of all the high—strung poet… Mother of all the grass that weave… Mother of all the manifold forms o… Silent brooder and nurse of lyrica… Out of thee, yea, surely out of th…