Peace to his ashes! I cannot for the soul of me Sorrowing bow, Tho I search through the heart of… Grieve for him now.

I’m a-waiting and a-watching for t… For the sun that’s ever shining, f… For the light that casts no shadow… For the rose that’s ever blooming… I’m a-waiting and a watching for t…

Old November, sere and brown, Clothes the country, haunts the to… Sheds its cloak of withered leaves… Brings its sighing, soughing breez… Prophet of the dying year,

I sometimes wonder if the mighty… Cares aught about the little deeds… And if their day and time can reac… Or raise their breath above the hu… Does He who lightly holds th’ ete…

Were you to come, With your clear, gray eyes As calmly placid as, in summer’s h… At noontide lie the sultry skies; With your dark, brown hair

And Thou art One—One with th’ et… And with the flaming stars, and wi… Translucent, cold. The sentinel o… That clothes the sky in robes of l… The earth with warmth, the floweri…

O, Little David, play on your har… That ivory harp with the golden st… And sing as you did in Jewry Land… Of the Prince of Peace and the G… And the coming Christ Immanuel.

As I lie in bed, Flat on my back; There passes across my ceiling An endless panaroma of things— Quick steps of gay-voiced children…

There is naught in the pathless re… Of the pale, blue sky above, There is naught that the stars tel… As over the heavens they rove; That I have not felt, or have not…

Brother, come! And let us go unto our God. And when we stand before Him I shall say— “Lord, I do not hate,

The burnished glow of the old-gold… Shines brightly over me. A thousand stars, like a thousand… In a dark and placid sea, Bring memories of a golden night,

From your life’s blood to coin a t… The past, the present and the futu… To hold—and weave it to a ringing… That sounds within the changing he…

I plucked a rose from out a bower… That overhung my garden seat; And wondered I if, e’er before, b… A rose so sweet. Enwrapt in beauty I scarce felt t…

The little child crosses the stree… Why does she wave to me? What sees she in my wasted form To hail so joyously? Her olive face and curly hair