Dear to my heart are the ancestral… Dearer than if they were haunted b… These are the homes that were buil… They are simple enough to be great… I love the old white farmhouses ne…
Ah, who will tell me, in these lea… Why the sweet Spring delays, And where she hides, —the dear des… Of every heart that longs For bloom, and fragrance, and the…
“Christ of the Andes,” Christ of… Great lover of the hills, the open… And patient lover of impatient men Who blindly strive and sin and str… Thou Living Word, larger than any…
O garden isle, beloved by Sun and… Whose bluest billows kiss thy curv… Whose amorous light enfolds thee i… That fill with fruit each dark—lea… What hidden hatred hath the Earth…
BIRTHDAY VERSES Dear Aldrich, now November’s mell… Have brought another Festa round… You can’t refuse a loving—cup of p… From friends the fleeting years ha…
Heart of France for a hundred yea… Passionate, sensitive, proud, and… Quick to throb with her hopes and… Fierce to flame with her sense of… You, who hailed with a morning son…
The other night I had a dream, mo… And comforting, complete In every line, a crystal sphere, And full of intimate and secret ch… Therefore I will repeat
Thou warden of the western gate, a… The fogs of doubt that hid thy fac… Thine eyes at last look far and cl… To spread the light of liberty wor… No more thou dreamest of a peace r…
The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o’er them in the sunset hour Looms, dark and huge, St. Rombold… High in that rugged nest concealed…
If on the closed curtain of my sig… My fancy paints thy portrait far a… I see thee still the same, by nigh… Crossing the crowded street, or mo… 'Mid festal throngs, or reading by…
Jesus, Thou divine Companion, By Thy lowly human birth Thou hast come to join the workers… Burden bearers of the earth. Thou, the Carpenter of Nazareth,
The shadow by my finger cast Divides the future from the past: Before it, sleeps the unborn hour In darkness, and beyond thy power: Behind its unreturning line,
This is the soldier brave enough t… The glory—dazzled world that `war… Lover of peace, he looks beyond th… And rides through hell to save his…
Mother of all the high—strung poet… Mother of all the grass that weave… Mother of all the manifold forms o… Silent brooder and nurse of lyrica… Out of thee, yea, surely out of th…
If Might made Right, life were a… If Right made Might, this were th… But now, until we win the long cam… Right must gain Might to conquer…