Gone hath the Spring, with all it… And gone the Summer’s pomp and sh… And Autumn, in his leafless bower… Is waiting for the Winter’s snow. I said to Earth, so cold and gray…

To-day the plant by Williams set Its summer bloom discloses; The wilding sweethrier of his pray… Is crowned with cultured roses. Once more the Island State repeat…

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,…

Light, warmth, and sprouting green… Blue, stainless, steel-bright ethe… Tranquillity upon the deep-hushed… The freshening meadows, and the hi… Voice of the west-wind from the hi…

‘Jove means to settle Astraea in her seat again, And let down his golden chain An age of better metal.’ Ben Johnson 1615

They left their home of summer eas… Beneath the lowland’s sheltering t… To seek, by ways unknown to all, The promise of the waterfall. Some vague, faint rumor to the val…

WHEN first I saw our banner wave Above the nation’s council-hall, I heard beneath its marble wall The clanking fetters of the slave! In the foul market-place I stood,

In the outskirts of the village On the river’s winding shores Stand the Occidental plane-trees, Stand the ancient sycamores. One long century hath been numbere…

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…

Friend of my many years! When the great silence falls, at l… Let me not leave, to pain and sadd… A memory of tears, But pleasant thoughts alone.

The beaver cut his timber With patient teeth that day, The minks were fish-wards, and the… Surveyors of highway,- When Keezar sat on the hillside

Thrice welcome from the Land of F… And golden-fruited orange bowers To this sweet, green-turfed June… To her who, in our evil time, Dragged into light the nation’s cr…

Here, while the loom of Winter we… The shroud of flowers and fountain… I think of thee and summer eves Among the Northern mountains. When thunder tolled the twilight’s…

ALL night above their rocky bed They saw the stars march slow; The wild Sierra overhead, The desert’s death below. The Indian from his lodge of bark…

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.