It seemeth such a little way to me Across to that strange country—the… And yet, not strange, for it has g… The home of those of whom I am so… They make it seem familiar and mos…

Said the manicure scissors one day… ‘The shears always have their own… And I think it absurd That I am deterred From entering into life’s fray.

Oh, for the power to call to aid,… Own humble Muse, the famed and sa… Then might she fitly sing, and onl… Of those intrepid and unflinching… Who knew no homes save ever moving…

She leaned out into the soft June… With her long loose tresses the ni… Her eyes were as blue as the bells… Oh, what is so fair as a fair youn… She folded her hands, like the lea…

Is it the world, or my eyes, that… I see not the grace that I used t… In the meadow-brook whose song was… In the boughs of the willow tree. The brook runs slower—its song see…

Too sweet and too subtle for pen o… In phrases unwritten and measures… As deep and as strange as the soun… Is the song that my spirit is sing… In the midnight and tempest when f…

‘Little kids,’ you call us As we are at play. You were little children Just the other day. Now to-morrow nears us,

A maiden sat in teh sunset glow Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ag… That we see through a mist of tear… She sat and dreamed, with lips apa… With thoughtful eyes and a beating…

In a garb that was guiltless of co… She stood, with a dull, listless a… A creature of dumps and of dolours… But most undeniably fair. The folds of her garment fell roun…

The passion you forbade my lips to… Will not be silenced. You must he… The sullen thunders when they roll… And when the tempest nears, with w… I know your calm forgetfulness is…

Born in the flesh, and bred in the… Some of us harbour still A New World pride: and we flaunt… The Spirit of Bunker Hill. We claim our place, as a separate…

This is the world’s stupendous hou… The supreme moment for the race To see the emptiness of power, The worthlessness of wealth and pl… To see the purpose and the plan

The first flower of the spring is… Or bright, as one the ripe midsumm… The first faint note the forest wa… Is not as rich with feeling, or so… As when, full master of his art, t…

You call me an angel of love and o… A being of goodness and heavenly f… Sent out from God’s kingdom to gu… In paths where your spirit may mou… You say that I glow like a star o…