Of the poor bird that cannot fly Kindly you think and mournfully; For prisoners and for exiles all You let the tears of pity fall; And very true the grief should be

The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…

Be welcome, year! with corn and si… Make poor the body, but make rich… What man that bears his sheaves, g… Will heed the paint rubbed from hi… Nor leave behind thy fears and hol…

Hark, hark, a voice amid the quiet… It is thy Duty waiting thee witho… Rise from thy knees in hope, the h… A hand doth pull thee-it is Provi… Open thy door straightway, and get…

If thou hadst been a sculptor, wha… Of forms divine had thenceforth fi… Methinks I see thee, glorious wor… Striking a marble window through b… Thy face’s reflex on the coming fa…

Within my heart a worm had long be… I knew it not when I went down an… Because some servants of my inner… Had not, I found, of late been do… But then I spied the horror hideo…

Sighing above, Rustling below, Thorough the woods The winds go. Beneath, dead crowds;

And weep not, though the Beautifu… Within thy heart, as daily in thin… Thy heart must have its autumn, it… Leading, mayhap, to winter’s dim d… Yet doubt not. Beauty doth not pa…

They say that lonely sorrows do no… More gently, I think, sorrows tog… A new one joins the funeral glidin… With less of jar than when it brea… Grief swages grief, and joy doth j…

Rich is the fancy which can double… All seeming forms, and from cold i… Build up high glittering palaces w… Summer perfection, moulding all th… To spirit symmetry, and doth not l…

THOU art of this world, Christ.… Thou know’st our evens, our morns,… How moons, and hearts, and seasons… How we grow weary plodding on the… Of future joy how present pain ber…

Well for youth to seek the strong, Beautiful, and brave! We, the old, who walk along Gently to the grave, Only pay our court to thee,

The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.

This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…

Down a warm alley, early in the ye… Among the woods, with all the suns… And all the winds outside it, I b… To think that something gracious w… If anything of grace inhabit here,