The moon shines white and silent On the mist, which, like a tide Of some enchanted ocean, O’er the wide marsh doth glide, Spreading its ghost-like billows

The night is dark, the stinging sl… Swept by the bitter gusts of air, Drives whistling down the lonely s… And glazes on the pavement bare. The street-lamps flare and struggl…

It don’t seem hardly right, John, When both my hands was full, To stump me to a fight, John,— Your cousin, tu, John Bull! Ole Uncle S., sez he, “I guess

What were I, Love, if I were str… If thine eyes shut me out whereby… Thou, who unto my calmer soul dost… Knowledge, and Truth, and holy My… Wherein Truth mainly lies for tho…

God makes sech nights, all white a… Fur 'z you can look or listen, Moonshine an’ snow on field an’ hi… All silence an’ all glisten. Zekle crep’ up quite unbeknown

They pass me by like shadows, crow… Dim ghosts of men that hover to an… Hugging their bodies round them, l… Wherein their souls were buried lo… They trampled on their youth, and…

Such was he, our Martyr-Chief, Whom late the Nation he had led, With ashes on her head, Wept with the passion of an angry… Forgive me, if from present things…

One kiss from all others prevents… And sets all my pulses astir, And burns on my lips and torments… ’Tis the kiss that I fain would g… One kiss for all others requites m…

THEY are slaves who fear to spea… For the fallen and the weak; They are slaves who will not choos… Hatred, scoffing, and abuse, Rather than in silence shrink

An ass munched thistles, while a n… From passion’s fountain flooded al… ‘Hee-haw!’ cried he, ‘I hearken,’… For such ear-largess humble thanks… ‘Friend,’ said the winged pain, ‘i…

As one who, from the sunshine and… Enters the solid darkness of a cav… Nor knows what precipice or pit un… May yawn before him with its sudde… And, with hushed breath, doth ofte…

This little blossom from afar Hath come from other lands to thin… For, once, its white and drooping… Could see its shadow in the Rhine… Perchance some fair-haired German…

Of all the myriad moods of mind That through the soul come throngi… Which one was e’er so dear, so kin… So beautiful as Longing? The thing we long for, that we are

Sleep is Death’s image,-poets tel… But Absence is the bitter self of… And, you away, Life’s lips their… Parched in an air unfreshened by y… Light of those eyes that made the…

A beggar through the world am I, From place to place I wander by. Fill up my pilgrim’s scrip for me, For Christ’s sweet sake and chari… A little of thy steadfastness,