(A Negro Sermon.) Once, in a night as black as ink, She drove him out when he would no… Round the house there were men in… Asleep in rows by the Gaza gate.

“Yes,” said the sister with the li… The busy little sister with the fu… “This is the climax, the grand fif… There rides the proud, at the fini… There goes the hearse, the mourner…

Your dust will be upon the wind Within some certain years, Though you be sealed in lead to-da… Amid the country’s tears. When this idyllic churchyard

I opened the ink-well and smoke fi… The smoke formed the giant frog-ca… His web feet left dreadful slime t… He had hammer and nails that he la… He sprawled on the table, claw-han…

The moon’s a little prairie-dog. He shivers through the night. He sits upon his hill and cries For fear that I will bite. The sun’s a broncho. He’s afraid

A Chant for Boys with Manly Voic… (Every line sung one step deeper t… Any sky-bird sings, Ring, ring! Any church-chime rings,

Friends, I will not cease hoping… Such things I see, and some of th… Though now or streets are harsh an… Though our strong youths are strid… Friends, that sweet town, that won…

Let not young souls be smothered o… They do quaint deeds and fully fla… It is the world’s one crime its ba… Its poor are ox-like, limp and lea… Not that they starve; but starve s…

[Written while a field-worker i… King Arthur’s men have come again… They challenge everywhere The foes of Christ’s Eternal Chu… Her incense crowns the air.

The whole world on a raft! A King… The record of his grandeur but a s… Is it his deacon-beard, or old bal… That makes the band upon his whims… Loot and mud-honey have his soul d…

I asked the old Negro, “What i… I. IN WHICH A RACIN… This is the order of the music of… First, from the far East comes bu… The crooning turns to a sunrise si…

I went down into the desert To meet Elijah’€” Arisen from the dead. I thought to. find him in an echoi… For so my dream had said.

This section is a Christmas tree: Loaded with pretty toys for you. Behold the blocks, the Noah’s ark… The popguns painted red and blue. No solemn pine-cone forest-fruit,

Oh, once I walked a garden In dreams. ’Twas yellow grass. And many orange-trees grew there In sand as white as glass. The curving, wide wall-border

The foolish queen of fairyland From her milk-white throne in a li… Gave command to her cricket-band To play for her when the dew-drops… But the cold dew spoiled their ins…