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…

One of God’s own Darlings was my… With her looks of love and sunshin… How it trembled through my life, l… How its music yearns through all m… How her beauty rainbows round me,…

Upon us falls the shadow of night, And darkened is our day! My Love will greet the morning li… Four hundred miles away. God love her! torn so swift and fa…

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…

‘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 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…

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,

We thank Thee, Lord, for one day To look Heaven in the face! The Poor have only Sunday; The sweeter is the grace. 'Tis then they make the music

I sometimes think that Shakespear… To me that very self so long conce… But if his soul my soul has lighte… I sometimes think it was to gaze o… To find, with loving wonder in his…

The flower you placed within my bu… Has faded; but there lives within… Another rose, unfolding hour by ho… Your beauty’s self in its immortal… So living-warm this dainty blossom…

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…

The Delian diver wrecked her life… A pearl she saw by Visionary glea… And died with empty hand that coul… The treasure only Real in her dre…

A MERRY sound of clapping hands… A call to see the sight; And lo! the first soft snow-flakes… So exquisitely virginal: 'Tis my wee Nell at window stands…

Your tiny picture makes me yearn; We are so far apart! My Darling, I can only turn And kiss you in my heart. A thousand tender thoughts a-wing

TRUE Poets conquer Glory—do not… It; do not beg their way to Fame; Nor at her skirts in private bend… Nor sow the public broadcast with… They are the great High Priests o…