JOYS have three stages, Hoping,… The hands of Hope are empty, and… For the joy we take, in the taking… Now, which is the better—the joy u…

IN the old days, while yet the Ch… And men believed that praise of G… In curbing self as well as singing… There lived a monk, Macarius by n… A holy man, to whom the faithful c…

I START! I have slept for a mom… I have dreamt, sitting here by her… Oh, how lonely! What was it that… What presence, what heaven-sent ai… It was nothing, you say. But I tr…

O THE rare spring flowers! take… Do not wait forsummer buds—they ma… Every sweet to-day sends, we are w… Roses bloom for pulling: the path…

Trapper died—our hero—and we griev… In every heart in camp the sorrow… “His soul was red!” the Indian cr… “A white man, he!” the grim old Y… So, brief and strong, each mourner…

WHERE shall we seek for a hero,… Our laurels are wreathed for conqu… But we honor a shrine unfinished,… If we sing the deed that was sown… Shall we take for a sign this Neg…

I KNEW it all my boyhood: in a l… Like a dryad’s mirror hidden by th… Its eye flashed back the sunshine,… And I loved its truthful depths w… I scooped my hand and drank it, an…

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…

Though it lash the shallows that l… Afar from the great sea deeps, There is never a storm whose might… Where the vast leviathan sleeps. Like a mighty thought in a quiet m…

The Steamer ‘ Atlantic ’ Was Wre… FOR months and years, with penury… And heart-sore envy did they dare… And mite by mite was saved from ea… To buy, some future day, the God-…

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…

NOR War nor Peace, forever, old… But Strength my theme, whose song… The People’s Strength, the deep a… Of truths that seethe below the tr… The buried ruins of dead empires s…

There are lonesome places upon the… That have never re-echoed a sound… Where the spirits abide that feast… On the shuddering soul of a murder… And take grim delight in the fearf…

“I am poor,” said Chunder Ali, wh… Frowned in supercilious anger at t… “I am friendless and a Hindoo: su… Here in China, where the Hindoo f… I have naught to buy your justice;…

ONLY a fallen horse, stretched o… Stretched in the broken shafts, an… Only a fallen horse, and a circle… Watching the 'frighted teamster go… Hold! for his toil is over—no more…