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…

The threads our hands in blindness… No self-determined plan weaves in; The shuttle of the unseen powers Works out a pattern not as ours. Ah! small the choice of him who si…

Thou dwellest not, O Lord of all In temples which thy children rais… Our work to thine is mean and smal… And brief to thy eternal days. Forgive the weakness and the pride…

Thine are all the gifts, O God! Thine the broken bread; Let the naked feet be shod, And the starving fed. Let Thy children, by Thy grace,

Some die too late and some too soo… At early morning, heat of noon, Or the chill evening twilight. Th… Whom the rich heavens did so endow With eyes of power and Jove’s own…

THROUGH heat and cold, and show… Still onward cheerly driving! There’s life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving. But see! the day is closing cool,

Dark the halls, and cold the feast… Gone the bridemaids, gone the prie… All is over, all is done, Twain of yesterday are one! Blooming girl and manhood gray,

MASSACHUSETTS BAY, 1760. THE robins sang in the orchard, t… blossoms grew; Little of human sorrow the buds an… knew!

They hear Thee not, O God! nor s… Beneath Thy rod they mock at Thee… The princes of our ancient line Lie drunken with Assyrian wine; The priests around Thy altar spea…

The Khan came from Bokhara town To Hamza, santon of renown. ‘My head is sick, my hands are wea… Thy help, O holy man, I seek.’ In silence marking for a space

O dwellers in the stately towns, What come ye out to see? This common earth, this common sky… This water flowing free? As gayly as these kalmia flowers

ROBERT RAWLIN!—Frosts were f… When the ranger’s horn was calling Through the woods to Canada. Gone the winter’s sleet and snowin… Gone the spring-time’s bud and blo…

'Neath skies that winter never kne… The air was full of light and balm… And warm and soft the Gulf wind b… Through orange bloom and groves of… A stranger from the frozen North,

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…

Hands off! thou tithe-fat plundere… No trick of priestcraft here! Back, puny lordling! darest thou l… A hand on Elliott’s bier? Alive, your rank and pomp, as dust…