Life wanes, and the bright sunligh… Sets o’er the mountain-tops, where… O Innocence! O Trustfulness! O… Where are ye all, white-handed sis… Who with me on my way did walk alo…

Upon the altar of my life there li… A costly offering: its price I kn… The worth that it might have, its… Yet it lies there, and darkness co… It has not burned towards heaven i…

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…

BROUGHT FROM SWITZERLAN… Flower of the mountain! by the wan… Robbed of thy beauty’s short-lived… Didst thou but blow to gem the str… And bloom, to wither in the strang…

Early in life, when hope seems pro… And strong desire can sometimes mo… My dream was of thy shores, O Ita… Of thy blue deep, that even for a… Will not forsake its spicy pine-gi…

Are they indeed the bitterest tear… Those we let fall over the silent… Can our thoughts image forth no da… Than that which wraps us in the pe… Whom have ye laid beneath that mos…

She has gone down! Woe for the wo… Its weary workers! gazing from afa… At the clear rising of that hopefu… Star of redemption to each weeping… Of pow’r decrepit, and of rule out…

Beside a well-reap’d field at Eve… One laid him down to rest who’d wa… And fought and wounded been in Li… ‘These have done well their work,’… ‘But on mine armour blots of earth…

False Love, take hence thy roses, Give me the bitter Rue That on my heart reposes, Sorrow at least is true. Maiden so fair and pale,

The hours are past, love, Oh, fled they not too fast, love! Those happy hours, when down the m… We saw the rosy mists of morning g… And hand in hand, went forth upon…

Spirit, bright spirit! from thy na… Answer me! answer me! oh, let me h… Thy voice, and know that thou inde… That from the bonds in which thou’… Thou hast not broken free, thou ar…

Whatever else I see, I still see… I shut my eyes to see nought else…

Fallen from thy parent bough, Poor wither’d leaf, where goest th… From the mountain to the vale, From the forest to the hill I flutter, carried by the gale,

Oft let me wander hand in hand wit… In woodland paths, and lone seques… What time the sunny banks and moss… With dewy wreaths of early violets… Into the air their fragrant incens…

Oft, when my lips I open to rehea… Thy wondrous spells of wisdom and… And that my voice and thy immortal… On listening ears and hearts I mi… I shrink dismayed—and awful doth a…