Although its features fade in ligh… We have shadowy revealings of the… A little glimpse, when Spring unv… Of the Sleeping Beauty in the sou… A little drop of Heaven in each d…

Egypt! how I have dwelt with you… So long, so intimately, that it se… As if you had borne me; though I… It was so many thousand years ago! And in my gropings darkly undergro…

WE are not only where we seem To live, but in some Astral gleam Dwell also in a world of dream! Some heavenward window opes above The shut-up soul, to lean out of,

The tender green that laughs out i… And drinks the freshness of the de… Must take the cloud of dust that t… And burnish every tiny blade again… The river into which heaven cometh…

You have your Angel in the House!… On this, her likeness, mirrored in… If but to learn how shadowy the I… In presence of the living, loving…

Dear things! we would not have you… Your Ignorance is so charming! We… That greater knowledge might not l… Sure aid to blind obedience and de…

There lives a voice within me, a g… And its sweet lispings win me, til… Up evermore it springeth, like som… And evermore it singeth this sweet… This world is full of beauty, as o…

Oft in the night I am with you, D… I lean and listen your breathing t… Little you dream of any one near. No one knoweth that I am gone; Curtains closely about me drawn,

Dark, dark the night, and tearfull… Lost in the Shadows, feeling for… But cannot find it. Here’s no hel… And God is very far off with His… Hush, hush, faint heart! why this…

Such look of an immortal likeness… At times into the eyes of dear dum… As if Hereafter we must recognize The Unknown Life that knew us in…

WE read your Letters! no word los… All, all is rememberèd; And often when there comes no Pos… Once more are the old ones read. Of all she did we love to hear,

There are two Heavens for natures… And calm as thine, my gentle Love… One Heaven but reflected here; One Heaven that waits above: As yonder Lake, in Evening’s red,

AT the Last Day while all the re… Are soundly sleeping underground, He will be up clean-shaved and dre… An hour before the Trumpets sound…

‘TIS hard to die in Spring-time, When, to mock our bitter need, All life around runs over In its fullness without heed: New life for tiniest twig on tree,

You perfect, pure, original, Writ in a tongue unknown to all; Translated, in some other sphere, You may be read; but will not here…