WELL speed thy mission, bold Ico… Yet all unworthy of its trust thou… If, with dry eye, and cold, unlovi… Thou tread’st the solemn Pantheon… By the great Future’s dazzling ho…

Between the gates of birth and dea… An old and saintly pilgrim passed, With look of one who witnesseth The long-sought goal at last. O thou whose reverent feet have fo…

They tell me, Lucy, thou art dead… That all of thee we loved and cher… Has with thy summer roses perished… And left, as its young beauty fled… An ashen memory in its stead,

Prelude I sing the Pilgrim of a softer cl… And milder speech than those brave… To the ice and iron of our winter… A will as firm, a creed as stern,…

She came and stood in the Old Sou… A wonder and a sign, With a look the old-time sibyls wo… Half-crazed and half-divine. Save the mournful sackcloth about…

"Tie stille, barn min! Imorgen kommer Fin, Fa’er din, Og gi’er dich Esbern Snares öine… Zealand Rhyme.

O Friends! with whom my feet have… The quiet aisles of prayer, Glad witness to your zeal for God And love of man I bear. I trace your lines of argument;

“Put up the sword!” The voice of… Speaks, in the pauses of the canno… O’er fields of corn by fiery sickl… And left dry ashes; over trenches… With nameless dead; o’er cities st…

INSCRIBED TO ROBERT C… Fold her, O Father, in Thine arm… And let her henceforth be A messenger of love between Our human hearts and Thee.

As a guest who may not stay Long and sad farewells to say Glides with smiling face away, Of the sweetness and the zest Of thy happy life possessed

THE South-land boasts its teemin… The prairied West its heavy grain… And sunset’s radiant gates unfold On rising marts and sands of gold! Rough, bleak, and hard, our little…

The tree of Faith its bare, dry b… That nearer heaven the living ones… The false must fail, though from o… The old lament be heard, ‘Great P… That wail is Error’s, from his hi…

Pipes of the misty moorlands, Voice of the glens and hills; The droning of the torrents, The treble of the rills! Not the braes of bloom and heather…

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.

I HAVE been thinking of the vict… In Naples, dying for the lack of… And sunshine, in their close, damp… Where hope is not, and innocence i… Appeals against the torture and th…