LOOK on him! through his dungeon… Feebly and cold, the morning light Comes stealing round him, dim and… As if it loathed the sight. Reclining on his strawy bed,

Yes, pile the marble o’er him! It… That ye who mocked him in his long… And planted in the pathway of his… The ploughshares of your hatred ho… Who clamored down the bold reforme…

Andrew Rykman’s dead and gone; You can see his leaning slate In the graveyard, and thereon Read his name and date. Trust is truer than our fears

BENEATH thy skies, November! Thy skies of cloud and rain, Around our blazing camp-fires We close our ranks again. Then sound again the bugles,

So, this is all,—the utmost reach Of priestly power the mind to fett… When laymen think, when women prea… A war of words, a ‘Pastoral Lette… Now, shame upon ye, parish Popes!

NOT unto us who did but seek The word that burned within to spe… Not unto us this day belong The triumph and exultant song. Upon us fell in early youth

THE SUNLIGHT glitters keen an… Where, miles away, Lies stretching to my dazzled sigh… A luminous belt, a misty light, Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wa…

From pain and peril, by land and m… The shipwrecked sailor came back a… And like one from the dead, the th… Of his wondering home, that had mo… Where he sat once more with his ki…

Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoar… Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn! Let other lands, exulting, glean

‘O for a knight like Bayard, Without reproach or fear; My light glove on his casque of st… My love-knot on his spear! ’O for the white plume floating

Talk not of sad November, when a… Of warm, glad sunshine fills the s… And a wind, borrowed from some mor… Stirs the brown grasses and the le… On the unfrosted pool the pillared…

Unnoted as the setting of a star He passed; and sect and party scar… When from their midst a sage and s… To fitter audience, where the grea… In God’s republic of the heart an…

GREYSTONE, AUG. 4, 1886. Once more, O all-adjusting Death! The nation’s Pantheon opens wide; Once more a common sorrow saith A strong, wise man has died.

HURRAH! the seaward breezes Sweep down the bay amain; Heave up, my lads, the anchor! Run up the sail again! Leave to the lubber landsmen

Have I not voyaged, friend belove… On the great waters of the unsound… Momently listening with suspended… For the low rote of waves upon a s… Changeless as heaven, where never…