The warm pulse of the nation has g… The muffled heart of Freedom, lik… Throbs solemnly for one whose eart… Wrought every mission well. Whose glowing reason towered above…

So lone I stood, the very trees s… In conference with themselves.—In… Seemed everything;—the summer sple… The sight,—magnificence! A babe’s life might not lighter fa…

Leave him here in the fresh greening grasses and trees And the symbols of love, and the s… The saintly white lilies and bloss… In endless caress as

It tossed its head at the wooing b… And the sun, like a bashful swain, Beamed on it through the waving tr… With a passion all in vain,— For my rose laughed in a crimson g…

Tommy’s alluz playin’ jokes, An’ actin’ up, an’ foolin’ folks; An’ wunst one time he creep In Pa’s big chair, he did, one ni… An’ squint an’ shut his eyes bofe…

A goddess, with a siren’s grace,— A sun-haired girl on a craggy plac… Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. Wrought was she of a painter’s dre…

At Union Station 'Ll where in the world my eyes has… Ef I hain’t missed that train ag’… Chuff! And whistle! And toot! An… But blast and blister the dasted t…

‘Why do I sing—Tra-la-la-la-la! Glad as a King?—Tra-la-la-la-la! Well, since you ask,— I have such a pleasant task, I can not help but sing!

I hail thee, Nessmuk, for the lof… Yet simple grace that marks thy po… True forester thou art, and still… Even in happier fields than thou h… Thus, in glad visions, glimpses am…

_(Grandfather, musing.)_ In childish days! O memory, You bring such curious things to m… Laughs to the lip—tears to the eye… In looking on the gifts that lie

Illileo, the moonlight seemed lost… The stars but strewed the azure as… The airs of night were quiet as th… And all your words were sweeter th… Illileo Legardi, in the garden th…

A strange life—strangely passed! We may not read the soul When God has folded up the scroll In death at last. We may not—dare not say of one

A quite convincing axiom Is, 'Life is like a play’; For, turning back its pages some Few dog-eared years away, I find where I

My Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue; The dawnin’ brings the dazzle, An’ the gloamin’ brings the dew,— The mirk o’ nicht the glory

Season of snows, and season of flo… Seasons of loss and gain!— Since grief and joy must alike be… Why do we still complain? Ever our failing, from sun to sun,