There is a place among the Cape A… That looks from fir-dark summits o… Whose surging sapphire changes con… Beneath deep heavens, Morning win… With golden calm, or sunset citade…

Within the world of every man’s de… Two things have power to lift the… The first is Work, who dons a mea… The other, Love, whose raiment is… Their child is Hope, and we the h…

What joy you take in making hotnes… In emphasising dulness with your b… Making monotony more monotonous! When Summer comes, and drouth hat… In all the creeks, we hear your ra…

A Mile of lane, hedged high with… And dying daisies, white with sun,… Downward into a wood; through whic… Steals like a shadow; over which i… A bridge of logs, worn deep by man…

I passed a cottage ‘twixt the town… And marked its garden, blossoming… And breathing many a scent. Awhil… Near pink and marigold. It seemed a place of prayer; of lo…

Christmas Eve is here at last. And I’m happy as can be. Going to have a Christmas-tree, And more toys than any past Christmas saw or ever had,

Squat-nosed and broad, of big and… A tavern visage, apoplexy haunts, All pimple-puffed: the Falstaff-l… Of fat debauchery, whose veined ch… A flabby purple: rusty-spurred he…

There is a path that leads Through purple iron-weeds, By button-bush and mallow Along a creek; A path that wildflowers hallow,

Again, in dreams, the veteran hear… The bugle and the drum; Again the boom of battle nears, Again the bullets hum: Again he mounts, again he cheers,

Rain will fall on the fading flowe… Winds will blow through the drippi… When Fall leads in her tattered H… With Death to keep them company. All night long in the weeping weat…

On southern winds shot through wit… Breathing soft balm and clothed in… The lily-fingered Spring came o’e… Waking the crocus and the daffodil… O’er the cold Earth she breathed…

To it the forest tells The mystery that haunts its heart… Its form in cogitation deep, that… The shadow of each myth that dwell… In nature be it Nymph or Fay or…

This is the tomboy month of all th… March, who comes shouting o’er the… Waking the world with laughter, as… Or wild halloos, a windflower in h… She stops a moment by the half-tha…

If heart be tired and soul be sad As life goes on in homespun clad, Drab, colorless, with much of care… Not even a ribbon in her hair; Heart-broken for the near and new,

Here is a tale for workmen and the… There was a torrent once that down… Flashed its resistless way; a foam… Basaltic-built, ‘twixt cataract-he… Down from its eagle eyrie nearer,…