We saw the slow tides go and come, The curving surf-lines lightly dra… The gray rocks touched with tender… Beneath the fresh-blown rose of da… We saw in richer sunsets lost

His laurels fresh from song and la… Romance, art, science, rich in all… And young of heart, how dare we sa… We keep his seventieth festival? No sense is here of loss or lack;

Though flowers have perished at th… Of Frost, the early comer, I hail the season loved so much, The good St. Martin’s summer. O gracious morn, with rose-red daw…

THE Rabbi Ishmael, with the woe… Of the world heavy upon him, enter… The Holy of Holies, saw an awful… With terrible splendor filling all… ‘O Ishmael Ben Elisha!’ said a v…

O dearest bloom the seasons know, Flowers of the Resurrection blow, Our hope and faith restore; And through the bitterness of deat… And loss and sorrow, breathe a bre…

GOD bless New Hampshire! from he… Once more the voice of Stark and… The long-bound vassal of the exult… For very shame her self-forged cha… Turn the black seal of slavery fro…

Maud Muller on a summer’s day Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the we… Of simple beauty and rustic health… Singing, she wrought, and her merr…

Spare me, dread angel of reproof, And let the sunshine weave to-day Its gold-threads in the warp and w… Of life so poor and gray. Spare me awhile; the flesh is weak…

IT chanced that while the pious t… Fought in the crusade Pio Nono pr… What time the holy Bourbons staye… (The Hur and Aaron meet for such… Stretched forth from Naples towar…

NOW, joy and thanks forevermore! The dreary night has wellnigh pass… The slumbers of the North are o’e… The Giant stands erect at last! More than we hoped in that dark ti…

John Brown of Ossawatomie spake o… 'I will not have to shrive my soul… But let some poor slave-mother who… With her children, from the gallow… John Brown of Ossawatomie, they l…

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To H… Gone, gone, - sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swi… Where the noisome insect stings

A track of moonlight on a quiet la… Whose small waves on a silver-sand… Whisper of peace, and with the low… Such harmonies as keep the woods a… And listening all night long for t…

Tritemius of Herbipolis, one day, While kneeling at the altar’s foot… Alone with God, as was his pious… Heard from without a miserable voi… A sound which seemed of all sad th…

ACROSS the frozen marshes The winds of autumn blow, And the fen-lands of the Wetter Are white with early snow. But where the low, gray headlands