Art thou already weary of the way? Thou who hast yet but half the way… Get up, and lift thy burthen: lo,… Thy feet the road goes stretching… If thou already faint, who hast bu…

If there were any power in human l… Or in th’ intensest longing of the… Then should the oceans and the lan… Ye from my sight all unprevailing… Then should the yearning of my bos…

Silence instead of thy sweet song,… Which through the darkness of my w… Warbling of summer sunshine still… Mute is thy song, and vacant is th… The spring comes back again, the f…

Thou art like the bird that alight… Though the frail spray bends—for h…

What shall I do with all the days… That must be counted ere I see th… How shall I charm the interval th… Between this time and that sweet t… Shall I in slumber steep each wea…

The end is come: in thunder and wi… Autumn has stormed the golden hous… She going—lingers yet—sweet glance… Of kind farewell upon the land she… And leaves. No more the sunny lan…

What though the sun must set, and… Shall we turn coldly from the bles… And o’er the heavens call an earli… Because the longest day must end i… What though the golden summer flie…

When we first met, dark wintry ski… And the wild winds sang requiem to… But thou, in all thy beauty’s prid… And my young heart knew hope witho… When we last parted, summer suns w…

We are the ghosts of those small f… That in the opening of the year, ‘Neath rosemary and myrtle bowers, In crimson vests appear. Far, underneath the blue pine wood…

One river from the mountain spring… Into three several streams its cou… For one a royal path was made; it… Sheltered and screened, through ch… A noble flood, a bounteous, beaute…

Blame not my tears, love, to you h… The brightest, best gift, God to… The sunlight of hope on your heart… And shines from your heart on this… Blame not my tears, love, on you h…

The water has flowed forth a year, Since, sitting by the fountain’s s… We looked into the basin clear, Where sparkles still the gushing t… And watched the crystal current po…

Written among the Ruins of the So… Thou who within thyself dost not b… Ruins as great as these, though no… Canst scarce through life have tra… Or lack’st the spirit of a pilgrim…

I am alone’€”oh be thou near to me… Great God! from whom the meanest… Not in presumption of the daring s… Striving to find the secrets of it… Make I my weeping prayer; in the…

IN MARCH 1865 A double worship hath the spring,… Triumph, and joy, and sweetness mo… For, standing on the threshold of… Your life’s star shines, full in h…