Star of my heart, I follow from a… Sweet Love on high, lead on where… Where Time is not, and only dream… Star from of old, the Magi-Kings… And a foolish Saxon seeks the man…

I. GOD SEND THE REGICI… Would that the lying rulers of the… Were brought to block for tyrannie… Would that the sword of Cromwell… The sword of Joshua and Gideon,

Would I might rouse the Lincoln i… That which is gendered in the wild… From lonely prairies and God’s te… Imperial soul, star of a weedy str… Born where the ghosts of buffaloes…

Written to Miss Alice L. F.… Your fine white hand is Heaven’s… To cure the wide world, stricken s… Bleeding at the breast and head, Tearing at its wounds once more.

This is the song The spice-tree sings: “Hunger and fire, Hunger and fire, Sky-born Beauty—

’Tis a moonlight night in the spring of the year.” In Which, contrary to Artistic Custom, the moral of the piece is placed before the reader. (From the first Khandaka of the M...

Think not that incense-smoke has h… My friends, the incense-time has b… Creed upon creed, cult upon cult s… Shrine after shrine grow gray bene… And mountain-boulders in our aged…

Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing,

In this, the City of my Disconten… Sometimes there comes a whisper fr… “Romance, Romance—is here. No Hi… Is quite so strange. No Citadel o… By Sinbad found, held half such l…

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.

Two statesmen met by moonlight. Their ease was partly feigned. They glanced about the prairie. Their faces were constrained. In various ways aforetime

My lady in her white silk shawl Is like a lily dim, Within the twilight of the room Enthroned and kind and prim. My lady! Pale gold is her hair.

(The poem shows the Master, wi… I heard Immanuel singing Within his own good lands, I saw him bend above his harp. I watched his wandering hands

(A Poem Game.) “And when the Queen of Sheba hear… [The men’s leader rises as he sees… Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sh… [He bows three times.]

The Moon’s the North Wind’s cook… He bites it, day by day, Until there’s but a rim of scraps That crumble all away. The South Wind is a baker.