FROM these wild rocks I look to-… O’er leagues of dancing waves, and… The far, low coast-line stretch aw… To where our river meets the sea. The light wind blowing off the lan…

I need not ask thee, for my sake, To read a book which well may make Its way by native force of wit Without my manual sign to it. Its piquant writer needs from me

Summer’s last sun nigh unto settin… Through yon columnar pines, And on the deepening shadows of th… Its golden lines are drawn. Dreaming of long gone summer days…

‘The cross, if rightly borne, shal… No burden, but support to thee;’ So, moved of old time for our sake… The holy monk of Kempen spake. Thou brave and true one! upon whom

“ALL ready?” cried the captain; “Ay, ay!” the seamen said; “Heave up the worthless lubbers,— The dying and the dead.” Up from the slave-ship’s prison

One Sabbath day my friend and I After the meeting, quietly Passed from the crowded village la… White with dry dust for lack of ra… And climbed the neighboring slope,…

BY fire and cloud, across the des… And through the parted waves, From their long bondage, with an o… God led the Hebrew slaves! Dead as the letter of the Pentate…

With wisdom far beyond her years, And graver than her wondering peer… So strong, so mild, combining stil… The tender heart and queenly will, To conscience and to duty true,

WHEN Freedom, on her natal day, Within her war-rocked cradle lay, An iron race around her stood, Baptized her infant brow in blood; And, through the storm which round…

Oh, dwarfed and wronged, and stain… Behold! thou art a woman still! And, by that sacred name and dear, I bid thy better self appear. Still, through thy foul disguise,…

NOT without envy Wealth at times… On their brown strength who wield… And scythe, or at the forge-fire s… Or the steel harness of the steeds… All who, by skill and patience, an…

I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through… The songs of Spenser’s golden day… Arcadian Sidney’s silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with f…

THE storm and peril overpast, The hounding hatred shamed and sti… Go, soul of freedom! take at last The place which thou alone canst f… Confirm the lesson taught of old—

The gulf of seven and fifty years We stretch our welcoming hands acr… The distance but a pebble’s toss Between us and our youth appears. For in life’s school we linger on

We praise not now the poet’s art, The rounded beauty of his song; Who weighs him from his life apart Must do his nobler nature wrong. Not for the eye, familiar grown