THE words of the lips are double… True or false, as we say or sing: But the words of the eyes that mix… Are always saying the same old thi…

THERE is an old tradition sacred… That says: 'Upon St. Martin’s Ev… No fishermen of Wexford shall, up… Set sail or cast a line within the… The tongue that framed the order,…

THUNDER our thanks to her—guns,… Cheer from the ranks to her, Shout from the banks to her— Mayflower! Foremost and best of o… Mayflower! Twice in the national…

JOYS have three stages, Hoping,… The hands of Hope are empty, and… For the joy we take, in the taking… Now, which is the better—the joy u…

NEVER nobler was the Senate, Never grander the debate: Rome’s old gods are on their trial By the judges of the state! Torn by warring creeds, the Fathe…

There are lonesome places upon the… That have never re-echoed a sound… Where the spirits abide that feast… On the shuddering soul of a murder… And take grim delight in the fearf…

THE red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of lov… O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rose…

“COME to me for wisdom,' said th… In the valley and the plain There is Knowledge dimmed with so… There is Effort, with its hope li… There, the chained rebel, Passion…

THE day of Joseph’s marriage unt… In thoughful mood he said unto his… Behold, I go into a far-off count… To labor for thee, and to make thy… And home all sweet and peaceful.'…

THERE once was a pirate, greedy… Who ravaged for gain, and saved th… Till his coffers were bursting wit… And millions of captives bore his… Then fear took hold of him, and he…

‘SHE is dead!’ they say; 'she is… Her mother has kissed her clay-col… Her blue eyes show through the wax… Her grave is dug, and its heap of… ‘She is dead!’ they say to the peo…

LOVE’S Herald flew o’er all the… Crying: ’ Love’s altar waits for sacrifice!’ And all folk answered, like a wave… With treasured offerings and gifts…

A GOD-LIKE face, with human lo… And tender fancy traced in every l… A god-like face, but oh, how human… Dear Keats, who love the gods the…

Poets should not reason: Let them sing! Argument is treason— Bells should ring. Statements none, nor questions;

DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…