CLEAR and bright, from the snowy… The joyous stream to the plain des… Rich sands of gold were washed and… To the turbid marsh where its pure… From stainless snow to the moor be…

IIN the evergreen shade of an Au… Where the long branches laced abov… Through which all day it seemed The sweet sunbeams down-gleamed Like the rays of a young mother’s…

The Infinite always is silent: It is only the Finite speaks. Our words are the idle wave-caps On the deep that never breaks. We may question with wand of scien…

ONCE I had a little sweetheart In the land of the Malay,— Such a little yellow sweetheart! Warm and peerless as the day Of her own dear sunny island,

YE white-maned waves of the Weste… That ride and roll to the strand, Ye strong-winged birds, never forc… By the gales that sweep toward lan… Ye are symbols of death, and of ho…

THERE once was a time when, as o… The earth was not round, but an en… The sea was as wide as the heavens… Just millions of miles, and begin… And that was the time—ay, and more…

HOW did he live, this dead man he… With the temple above his grave? He lived as a great one, from crad… He was nursed in luxury, trained i… When the wish was born, it was gra…

NATHAN BEANS and William Lam… Known from infancy to revel only i… Many a mother of Nantucket bristl… With a horrid skulking whistle, te… But for all maternal bristling lit…

They brought them up from their hu… The woeful sufferers gaunt and gri… They flocked from the city’s noiso… To the Monarch’s throne to be tou… ‘For his touch,’ they whisper, ‘is…

“AND Smith has made money?” “O, no; that’s a myth: Smith never made money But money made Smith!” A sculptor is Deming—a great man,…

LET be what is: why should we str… With awkward skill against a subtl… Or pin a mystery ‘neath our puny p… And vainly try to bray its secret… What boots it me to gaze at other…

‘HOW shall I a habit break?’ As you did that habit make. As you gathered, you must lose; As you yielded, now refuse. Thread by thread the strands we tw…

o The faithful helm commands the kee… From port to port fair breezes blo… But the ship must sail the convex… Nor may she straighter go.

DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…