It was Einar Tamberskelver Stood beside the mast; From his yew-bow, tipped with silv… Flew the arrows fast; Aimed at Eric unavailing,

With what a glory comes and goes t… The buds of spring, those beautifu… Of sunny skies and cloudless times… Life’s newness, and earth’s garnit… And when the silver habit of the c…

Simon Danz has come home again, From cruising about with his bucca… He has singed the beard of the Ki… And carried away the Dean of Jaen And sold him in Algiers.

Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain… Full seven miles broad and seven m… But never, ah never, can meet with… A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side

Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and gast blew the blast, And the east—wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the happy days that followed, In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant land and peaceful! Sing the mysteries of Mondamin,

Thou ancient oak! whose myriad lea… With sounds of unintelligible spee… Sounds as of surges on a shingly b… Or multitudinous murmurs of a crow… With some mysterious gift of tongu…

On the cross the dying Saviour Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm, Feels, but scarcely feels, a tremb… In his pierced and bleeding palm. And by all the world forsaken,

It was the season, when through al… The merle and mavis build, and bui… Those lovely lyrics, written by H… Whom Saxon Caedmon calls the Bli… When on the boughs the purple buds…

Among the many lives that I have… None I remember more serene and s… More rounded in itself and more co… Than his, who lies beneath this fu… These pines, that murmur in low mo…

Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath,… A volume of the Law, in which it… ‘No man shall look upon my face an… And as he read, he prayed that Go… His faithful servant grace with mo…

A gentle boy, with soft and silken… A dreamy boy, with brown and tende… A castle-builder, with his wooden… And towers that touch imaginary sk… A fearless rider on his father’s k…

(Canto XXIII.) Even as a bird, ‘mid the beloved l… Quiet upon the nest of her sweet b… Throughout the night, that hideth… Who, that she may behold their lon…

“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! Wrapt not in Eastern balms,

Round Autumn’s mouldering urn Loud mourns the chill and cheerles… When nightfall shades the quiet va… And stars in beauty burn. 'Tis the year’s eventide.