CENTENNIAL CELEBRAT… BONAPARTE, AUGUST 15, 17… ERE yet the warning chimes of mid… Set back the flaming index of the… Track the swift-shifting seasons i…

Yes, dear Enchantress, - wanderin… In realms unperfumed by the breath… Where flowers ill-flavored shed th… And bitterest roots invade the ung… Whose gems are crystals from the…

As through the forest, disarrayed By chill November, late I strayed… A lonely minstrel of the wood Was singing to the solitude I loved thy music, thus I said,

Poor conquered monarch! though tha… Still speaks thy courage unsubdued… And in the grandeur of thy sullen… Lives the proud spirit of thy burn… Fettered by things that shudder at…

WHEN legislators keep the law, When banks dispense with bolts and… When berries—whortle, rasp, and st… Grow bigger downwards through the… When he that selleth house or land

GIVER of all that crowns our day… With grateful hearts we sing thy p… Through deep and desert led by Th… Our promised land at last we see. Ruler of Nations, judge our cause…

ASTRONOMER, MATHEMATICI… FOR him the Architect of all Unroofed our planet’s starlit hall… Through voids unknown to worlds un… His clearer vision rose serene.

The stars are rolling in the sky, The earth rolls on below, And we can feel the rattling wheel Revolving as we go. Then tread away, my gallant boys,

PRELUDE TO 'ILLUSTRATE… FULL well I know the frozen hand… That smites the songs of grove and… And chills sad autumn’s last chrys… Yet would I find one blossom, if…

THE dirge is played, the throbbin… The sad-voiced requiem sung; On each white urn where memory dwe… The wreath of rustling immortelles Our loving hands have hung,

THE YOUNG GIRL’S POEM KISS mine eyelids, beauteous Mor… Blushing into life new-born! Lend me violets for my hair, And thy russet robe to wear,

I PRAY thee by the soul of her t… By thine own sister’s spirit I im… Deal gently with the leaves that l… For Iris had no mother to infold… Nor ever leaned upon a sister’s sh…

Yes, dear departed, cherished days… Could Memory’s hand restore Your morning light, your evening r… From Time’s gray urn once more,— Then might this restless heart be…

Too young for love? Ah, say not so! Tell reddening rose-buds not to bl… Wait not for spring to pass away,— Love’s summer months begin with M…

SAY not the Poet dies! Though in the dust he lies, He cannot forfeit his melodious br… Unsphered by envious death! Life drops the voiceless myriads f…