Let me lean hard upon the Eternal… In all earth’s devious ways, I so… And found it not. I will be stron… And lean upon myself. I will not… And importune all heaven with my c…

This is the song for a soldier To sing as he rides from home To the fields afar where the battl… Or over the ocean’s foam: ‘Whatever the dangers waiting

Be careful what rubbish you toss i… On outgoing billows it drifts from… But back on the incoming waves it… And land at your threshold again b… Be careful what rubbish you toss i…

Whoever was begotten by pure love, And came desired and welcome into… Is of immaculate conception. He Whose heart is full of tenderness… Who loves mankind more than he lov…

Heigh ho! well, the season’s over! Once again we’ve come to Lent! Programme’s changed from balls and… Now we’re ordered to repent. Forty days of self-denial!

There was a little comet who lived… She loved to wander out at night a… The mother of the comet was a very… She used to scold her reckless chi… She told her of the ogre, Sun, wh…

Ho! for the day in the whole year… Long may it live in the heart of t… Long may it be ere the names are f… That boldly were signed to the gra… Shout, sons of liberty! shout for…

Among the twelve hundred poems which have emanated from my too prolific pen there are some forty or fifty which treat entirely of that emotion which has been denominated “the grand pass...

Strengthen me for every contest, Let my prayers be not in vain, I would bless Thee, in my sorrow; I would glory in my pain; Make my spirit white-for heaven;

So many gods, so many creeds, So many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind, Is all the sad world needs.

An idle rhyme of the summer time, Sweet, and solemn, and tender; Fair with the haze of the moon’s p… Bright with the sunset’s splendour… Summer and beauty over the lands -

The year outgrows the spring it th… And clasps the summer with a new d… Yet wearied, leaves her languors a… When cool-browed autumn dawns upon… The tree outgrows the bud’s sugges…

Oh, you who read some song that I… What know you of the soul from whe… Dost dream the poet ever speaks al… His secret thought unto the listen… Go take the murmuring sea-shell fr…

Why do we pity those who weep? Th… That finds a ready outlet in the f… Of salt and bitter tears is blesse… And does not need our sympathies.… But fits the shorn field for new y…

False! Good God, I am dreaming! No, no, it never can be– You who are so true in seeming, You, false to your vows and me? My wife and my fair boy’s mother