Loudly the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, As with his fleet he steered Southward to Vendland; Where with their courses hauled

Saint Augustine! well hast thou s… That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of sham… All common things, each day’s even…

Lo! in the paintedoriel of the We… Whose panes the sunken sun incarna… Like a fair lady at her casement,… The evening star, the star of love… And then anon she doth herself div…

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…

Once on a time, some centuries ago… In the hot sunshine two Francisca… Wended their weary way, with foots… Back to their convent, whose white… Gleamed on the hillside like a pat…

This is the Arsenal. From floor… Like a huge organ, rise the burnis… But front their silent pipes no an… Startles the villages with strange… Ah! what a sound will rise, how wi…

Flow on, sweet river! like his ver… Who lies beneath this sculptured h… Nor wait beside the churchyard wal… For him who cannot hear thy call. Thy playmate once; I see him now

NEAR to the bank of the river, o… Garlands of Spanish moss and of m… Such as the Druids cut down with… Stood, secluded and still, the hou… Girdled it round about with a belt…

Warm and still is the summer night… As here by the river’s brink I wa… White overhead are the stars, and… The glimmering lamps on the hillsi… Silent are all the sounds of day;

‘Yes, well your story pleads the c… Of those dumb mouths that have no… Only a cry from each to each In its own kind, with its own laws… Something that is beyond the reach

Becalmed upon the sea of Thought, Still unattained the land it sough… My mind, with loosely-hanging sail… Lies waiting the auspicious gales. On either side, behind, before,

When Alcuin taught the sons of Ch… In the free schools of Aix, how k… And with them taught the children… How subjects should be patient and… He touched the lips of some, as be…

Never stoops the soaring vulture On his quarry in the desert, On the sick or wounded bison, But another vulture, watching From his high aerial look-out,

My soul its secret hath, my life t… A love eternal in a moment’s space… Hopeless the evil is, I have not… And she who was the cause nor knew… Alas! I shall have passed close b…

I stand again on the familiar shor… And hear the waves of the distract… Piteously calling and lamenting th… And waiting restless at thy cottag… The rocks, the sea—weed on the oce…