There are moments when, as mission… God reveals to us strange visions; When, within their separate statio… We may see the Centuries, Like revolving constellations

The tripod flared with a purple sp… And the mist hung emerald in the d… Now he stooped to the lilac flame Over the glare of the amber embers… Thrice to utter no earthly name;

Not while I live may I forget That garden which my spirit trod! Where dreams were flowers, wild an… And beautiful as God. Not while I breathe, awake, adrea…

March set heel upon the flowers, Trod and trampled them for hours: But when April’s bugles rang, Up their starry legions sprang, Radiant in the sun-shot showers.

Here is a tale for spinsters at th… There was a goose, a little goslin… Who went her goose-girl way and lo… As every goose should when ’tis wi… Proper was she as every gosling sh…

His Birthday, October the 7th, 19… RILEY, whose pen has made the wo… Whose Art has kept you young thro… Brimming our hearts with laughter… Holding her faith pure to the very…

To Friendship drink, and then to… And last to Loyalty! The first of these were not enough Without the last, through whom we… That Love is Love, and right enou…

The locust builds its are of sound And tops it with a spire; The roadside leaves pant to the gr… With dust from hoof and tire. The insects, day and night, make d…

Sweet lies! the sweetest ever hear… To her he said: Her heart remembers every word Now he is dead. I ask:' If thus his lies can make

The slow reflection of a woman’s f… Grew, as by witchcraft, in the ova… Of that strange glass on which the… As cruel as death beneath the aubu… The dark eyes burned; and, o’er th…

This is the path he used to take, That ended at a rose-porched door: He takes it now for oldtime’s sake… And love of yore. The blue mertensia, by the stone,

High as a star, yet lowly as a flo… Unknown she takes her unassuming p… At Earth’s proud masquerade-the a… Strikes, and, behold, the marvel o…

To me all beauty that I see Is melody made visible: An earth-translated state, may be, Of music heard in Heaven or Hell. Out of some love-impassioned strai…

THE WIND IN THE PINES WHEN winds go organing through t… On hill and headland, darkly gleam… Meseems I hear sonorous lines Of Iliads that the woods are drea…

THE season of the rose and peace… It could not last. There’s heartbreak in the hills an… Of sorrow in the rain-lashed plain… While Earth regards, aghast,