Summer’s last sun nigh unto settin… Through yon columnar pines, And on the deepening shadows of th… Its golden lines are drawn. Dreaming of long gone summer days…

AGAINST the wooded hills it sta… Ghost of a dead home, staring thro… Its broken lights on wasted lands Where old-time harvests grew. Unploughed, unsown, by scythe unsh…

AT THE UNVEILING OF HI… Among their graven shapes to whom Thy civic wreaths belong, O city of his love, make room For one whose gift was song.

VOICE of a people suffering long… The pathos of their mournful song, The sorrow of their night of wrong… Their cry like that which Israel… A prayer for one to guide and save…

THE storm and peril overpast, The hounding hatred shamed and sti… Go, soul of freedom! take at last The place which thou alone canst f… Confirm the lesson taught of old—

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.

We had been wandering for many day… Through the rough northern country… The sunset, with its bars of purpl… Like a new heaven, shine upward fr… Of Winnepiseogee; and had felt

THE years are but half a score, And the war-whoop sounds no more With the blast of bugles, where Straight into a slaughter pen, With his doomed three hundred men,

Sunlight upon Judha’s hills! And on the waves of Galilee; On Jordan’s stream, and on the ri… That feed the dead and sleeping se… Most freshly from the green wood s…

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…

Out and in the river is winding The links of its long, red chain, Through belts of dusky pine-land And gusty leagues of plain. Only, at times, a smoke-wreath

To the God of all sure mercies le… From the scoffer and the cruel He… Yes, he who cooled the furnace aro… And tamed the Chaldean lions, hat… Last night I saw the sunset melt…

SCARCE had the solemn Sabbath-b… Ceased quivering in the steeple, Scarce had the parson to his desk Walked stately through his people, When down the summer-shaded street

RIGHT in the track where Sherma… Ploughed his red furrow, Out of the narrow cabin, Up from the cellar’s burrow, Gathered the little black people,

Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growin… The solemn vista to the tomb Must know henceforth another shado… And give another cypress room. In love surpassing that of brother…