There should be no despair for you While nightly stars are burning, While evening pours its silent dew And sunshine gilds the morning. There should be no despair —though…
The moon is full this winter night… The stars are clear, though few; And every window glistens bright, With leaves of frozen dew. The sweet moon through your lattic…
No coward soul is mine No trembler in the world’s storm—t… I see Heaven’s glories shine And Faith shines equal arming me… O God within my breast
The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child… Forsake thy books, and mateless pl… And, while the night is gathering… We’ll talk its pensive hours away;…
She dried her tears and they did s… To see her cheeks’ returning glow How little dreaming all the while That full heart throbbed to overfl… With that sweet look and lively to…
How beautiful the earth is still, To thee —how full of happiness! How little fraught with real ill, Or unreal phantoms of distress! How spring can bring thee glory, y…
Hope was but a timid friend; She sat without the grated den, Watching how my fate would tend, Even as selfish—hearted men. She was cruel in her fear;
The wind was rough which tore That leaf from its parent tree The fate was cruel which bore The withering corpse to me We wander on we have no rest
I see around me tombstones grey Stretching their shadows far away. Beneath the turf my footsteps trea… Lie low and lone the silent dead— Beneath the turf– beneath the moul…
I do not weep; I would not weep; Our mother needs no tears: Dry thine eyes, too; 'tis vain to… This causeless grief for years. What though her brow be changed an…
How few, of all the hearts that lo… Are grieving for thee now; And why should mine to—night be mo… With such a sense of woe? Too often thus, when left alone,
It was a little budding rose, Round like a fairy globe, And shyly did its leaves unclose Hid in their mossy robe, But sweet was the slight and spicy…
'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere… But most where trees are sending
Well hast thou spoken, and yet, no… A feeling strange or new; Thou hast but roused a latent thou… A cloud—closed beam of sunshine, b… To gleam in open view.
THE linnet in the rocky dells, The moor-lark in the air, The bee among the heather bells That hide my lady fair: The wild deer browse above her bre…