HE gathered cherry-stones, and ca… Into fine semblances of flies and… With subtle skill, he even imaged… The forms of tiny maids and ivied… His little blocks he loved to file…

O Beauteous Southland! Land of y… That hangeth o’ve thee slumbering,… The moveless foliage of thy valley… And wooded hills, like aureole of… Oh thou, discovered ere the fittin…

AS grains from chaff, I sift thes… Kernels of wisdom, from the husks… Benevolence befits the wisest mind… But he who has not studied to be k… Who grants for asking, gives witho…

THOSE are vulgar things we pay f… While the precious and the peerles… Common debts are scored and cancel… But the debts from men to ages, th… Always see, the noblest nations ke…

‘You gave me the key of your heart… Then why do you make me knock?’ ‘O, that was yesterday, Saints ab… And last night—I changed the lock…

The dead who died for Ireland! Oh, these are living words To nerve the hearts of patriots— To steel avenging swords— They thrill the soul when spoken,

YOU have waited, Priests of Irel… You have stood with folded arms un… By the fever and the famine you ha… Till the whisper hissed through I… You have looked with tearless eyes…

FOR every sin that comes before t… And leaves an outward blemish on t… How many, darker, cower out of sig… And burrow, blind and silent, like… And like the mole, too, with its b…

HE is coming! he is coming! in my… There is music in my blood, and it… That my love unknown comes toward… For I cannot hide the secret that… O the sweet bursting flowers! how…

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…

WHAT shall we mourn? For the pro… For the fallen cliff that fronted… For the eagle that died in the tem… Nay, not for these shall we weep;… And the golden fillet shrink back…

DO not praise: a smile is payment… Who shall paint the mote’s glad ra… Nay, nor smile, for blind is eyesi… From the silence, from the twiligh… Songs were born before the singer:…

Have I no future left me? Is there no struggling ray From the sun of my life outshining Down on my darksome way? Will there no gleam of sunshine

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…

ONE righteous word for Law—the c… One living truth of Faith—God reg… One primal test of Freedom—all co… One sacred Revolution—change of m… One trust unfailing for the night…