Let him who will, by force or frau… Of courtly grandeurs gain the slip… I, leaving not the home of my deli… Far from the world and noise will… Then, without pomps or perils of t…

Where are the Poets, unto whom be… The Olympian heights; whose singi… Straight to the mark, and not from… But with the utmost tension of the… Where are the stately argosies of…

An old man in a lodge within a par… The chamber walls depicted all aro… With portraitures of huntsman, haw… And the hurt deer. He listeneth t… Whose song comes with the sunshine…

Still through Egypt’s desert plac… Flows the lordly Nile, From its banks the great stone fac… Gaze with patient smile. Still the pyramids imperious

I know a maiden fair to see, Take care! She can both false and friendly be… Beware! Beware! Trust her not,

With what a glory comes and goes t… The buds of spring, those beautifu… Of sunny skies and cloudless times… Life’s newness, and earth’s garnit… And when the silver habit of the c…

A handful of red sand, from the ho… Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy… The minister of Thought. How many weary centuries has it be…

There was a time when I was very… When my whole frame was but an ell… Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do… And therefore I recall it with de… I sported in my tender mother’s ar…

Ye voices, that arose After the Evening’s close, And whispered to my restless heart… Go, breathe it in the ear Of all who doubt and fear,

MILES STANDISH In the Old Colony days, in Plymo… To and fro in a room of his simple… Clad in doublet and hose, and boot… Strode, with a martial air, Miles…

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the happy days that followed, In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant land and peaceful! Sing the mysteries of Mondamin,

No hay pajaros en los nidos de ant… Spanish Proverb The sun is bright,—the air is clea… The darting swallows soar and sing… And from the stately elms I hear

When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm—wind of the equinox, Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges,

Solemnly, mournfully, Dealing its dole, The Curfew Bell Is beginning to toll. Cover the embers,

‘Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me… Danger and shame and death betide… For Olaf the King is hunting me d… Through field and forest, through… Thus cried Jarl Hakon