Every day brings a ship, Every ship brings a word; Well for those who have no fear, Looking seaward well assured That the word the vessel brings

If thou canst bear Strong meat of simple truth If thou durst my words compare With what thou thinkest in my soul… Then take this fact unto thy soul,…

The two parties which divide the state, the party of Conservatism and that of Innovation, are very old, and have disputed the possession of the world ever since it was made. This quarre...

The south—wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power,

What boots it, thy virtue, What profit thy parts, While one thing thou lackest, The art of all arts! The only credentials,

You shall not be overbold When you deal with arctic cold, As late I found my lukewarm blood Chilled wading in the snow—choked… How should I fight? my foeman fin…

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic… Muffled and dumb like barefoot der… And marching single in an endless… Bring diadems and fagots in their… To each they offer gifts after his…

The first thing we have to say respecting what are called new views here in New England, at the present time, is, that they are not new, but the very oldest of thoughts cast into the mo...

Announced by all the trumpets of t… Arrives the snow, and, driving o’e… Seems nowhere to alight: the white… Hides hills and woods, the river,… And veils the farm—house at the ga…

BRING me wine, but wine which ne… In the belly of the grape, Or grew on vine whose tap—roots, r… Under the Andes to the Cape, Suffer’d no savour of the earth to…

“May be true what I had heard, Earth’s a howling wilderness Truculent with fraud and force,” Said I, strolling through the pas… And along the riverside.

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay… On board of the Cumberland, sloop… And at times from the fortress acr… The alarum of drums swept past, Or a bugle blast

The green grass is growing, The morning wind is in it, ‘Tis a tune worth the knowing, Though it change every minute. ’Tis a tune of the spring,

Day! hast thou two faces, Making one place two places? One, by humble farmer seen, Chill and wet, unlighted, mean, Useful only, triste and damp,

The sinful painter drapes his godd… Because she still is naked, being… The godlike sculptor will not so d… Beauty, which bones and flesh enou…