TOKEN Of friendship true and tr… From one whose fiery heart of yout… With mine has beaten, side by side… For Liberty and Truth; With honest pride the gift I take…

The day is closing dark and cold, With roaring blast and sleety show… And through the dusk the lilacs we… The bloom of snow, instead of flow… I turn me from the gloom without,

How bland and sweet the greeting o… To him who flies From crowded street and red wall’s… Till far behind him like a hideous… The close dark city lies

. GIFT from the cold and silent Pa… A relic to the present cast, Left on the ever-changing strand Of shifting and unstable sand,

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…

Talk not of sad November, when a… Of warm, glad sunshine fills the s… And a wind, borrowed from some mor… Stirs the brown grasses and the le… On the unfrosted pool the pillared…

NOT with the splendors of the day… The spoil of nations, and barbaric… No weapons wrested from the fields… Where dark and stern the unyieldin… And the proud eagles of his cohort…

Out from Jerusalem The king rode with his great War chiefs and lords of state, And Sheba’s queen with them; Comely, but black withal,

A beautiful and happy girl, With step as light as summer air, Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of… Shadowed by many a careless curl Of unconfined and flowing hair;

Still linger in our noon of time And on our Saxon tongue The echoes of the home-born hymns The Aryan mothers sung. And childhood had its litanies

O lonely bay of Trinity, O dreary shores, give ear! Lean down unto the white-lipped se… The voice of God to hear! From world to world His couriers…

The Brownie sits in the Scotchman… And eats his meat and drinks his a… And beats the maid with her unused… And the lazy lout with his idle fl… But he sweeps the floor and thresh…

Weary of jangling noises never sti… The skeptic’s sneer, the bigot’s h… Of clashing texts, the webs of cre… Round simple truth, the children g… With gilded cards their new Jerus…

Before my drift-wood fire I sit, And see, with every waif I burn, Old dreams and fancies coloring it… And folly’s unlaid ghosts return. O ships of mine, whose swift keels…

ACROSS the frozen marshes The winds of autumn blow, And the fen-lands of the Wetter Are white with early snow. But where the low, gray headlands