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…

IN the solemn days of old, Two men met in Boston town, One a tradesman frank and bold, One a preacher of renown. Cried the last, in bitter tone:

Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoar… Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn! Let other lands, exulting, glean

My thoughts are all in yonder town… Where, wept by many tears, To-day my mother’s friend lays dow… The burden of her years. True as in life, no poor disguise

Low in the east, against a white,… The black-lined silhouette of the… And on a wintry waste Of frosted streams and hillsides b… Through thin cloud-films, a pallid…

Last night, just as the tints of a… Of sunset faded from our hills and… I sat, vague listening, lapped in… To the leaf’s rustle, and the cric… Then, like that basket, flush with…

Dead Petra in her hill-tomb sleep… Her stones of emptiness remain; Around her sculptured mystery swee… The lonely waste of Edom’s plain. From the doomed dwellers in the cl…

Its windows flashing to the sky, Beneath a thousand roofs of brown, Far down the vale, my friend and… Beheld the old and quiet town; The ghostly sails that out at sea

Who, looking backward from his man… Sees not the spectre of his misspe… And, through the shade Of funeral cypress planted thick b… Hears no reproachful whisper on th…

AN ALGONQUIN LEGEND. HAPPY young friends, sit by me, Under May’s blown apple-tree, While these home-birds in and out Through the blossoms flit about.

From the Mahabharata. Before the Ender comes, whose cha… Is swift or slow Disease, lay up… Thy harvests of well-doing, wealth… Nor thieves can take away. When a…

Along the aisle where prayer was m… A woman, all in black arrayed, Close-veiled, between the kneeling… With gliding motion of a ghost, Passed to the desk, and laid there…

The circle is broken, one seat is… One bud from the tree of our frien… One heart from among us no longer… With joy in our gladness, or grief… Weep! lonely and lowly are slumber…

THE tossing spray of Cocheco’s f… Hardened to ice on its rocky wall, As through Dover town in the chil… Three women passed, at the cart-ta… Bared to the waist, for the north…

Still sits the school-house by the… A ragged beggar sleeping; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry-vines are creeping. Within, the master’s desk is seen,