A PIOUS magistrate! sound his p… The wondering churches. Who shall… That the long-wished millennium dr… Sin in high places has become devo… Tithes mint, goes painful-faced, a…

The land, that, from the rule of k… In freeing us, itself made free, Our Old World Sister, to us brin… Her sculptured Dream of Liberty, Unlike the shapes on Egypt’s sand…

For ages on our river borders, These tassels in their tawny bloom… And willowy studs of downy silver, Have prophesied of Spring to come… For ages have the unbound waters

FROM gold to gray Our mild sweet day Of Indian Summer fades too soon; But tenderly Above the sea

1640-1890. O river winding to the sea! We call the old time back to thee; From forest paths and water-ways The century-woven veil we raise.

MY old Welsh neighbor over the wa… Crept slowly out in the sun of spr… Pushed from her ears the locks of… And listened to hear the robin sin… Her grandson, playing at marbles,…

Up from the meadows rich with corn… Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick… Green-walled by the hills of Mary… Round about them orchards sweep,

A gold fringe on the purpling hem Of hills the river runs, As down its long, green valley fal… The last of summer’s suns. Along its tawny gravel-bed

TO E. W. I KNOW not, Time and Space so i… Whether, still waiting with a trus… Thou bearest up thy fourscore year… Or, called at last, art now Heave…

God’s love and peace be with thee,… Soe’er this soft autumnal air Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair… Whether through city casements com… Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms…

All day the darkness and the cold Upon my heart have lain, Like shadows on the winter sky, Like frost upon the pane; But now my torpid fancy wakes,

Beside that milestone where the le… Nigh unto setting, sheds his last,… On word and work irrevocably done, Life’s blending threads of good an… I hear, O friends! your words of…

Here is the place; right over the… Runs the path I took; You can see the gap in the old wal… And the stepping-stones in the sha… There is the house, with the gate…

LONGFELLOW. WITH a glory of winter sunshine Over his locks of gray, In the old historic mansion He sat on his last birthday;

NIGHT on the city of the Moor! On mosque and tomb, and white-wall… On sea-waves, to whose ceaseless k… The narrow harbor gates unlock, On corsair’s galley, carack tall,