They brought them up from their hu… The woeful sufferers gaunt and gri… They flocked from the city’s noiso… To the Monarch’s throne to be tou… ‘For his touch,’ they whisper, ‘is…

There may be standard weight for p… But deeper meaning it must ever ho… Thank God, there are some things… And one of these—the real worth of… The stamp of king or crown has com…

AS grains from chaff, I sift thes… Kernels of wisdom, from the husks… Benevolence befits the wisest mind… But he who has not studied to be k… Who grants for asking, gives witho…

NOT many friends Wish I you; Love makes amends For the few. Slight bonds are best

THOSE we love truly never die, Though year by year the sad memori… A ring and flowers, types of life… Are laid upon their graves. For death the pure life saves,

I MAY not speak in words, dear,… To tell their crimson secret in le… They plead for smiles and kisses a… And every purple veinlet thrills w… O, let me see the glance, dear, th…

BLESSED are Pain, the smiter, And Sorrow, the uniter! For one afflicted lies— A symboled sacrifice— And all our rancor dies!

The dead who died for Ireland! Oh, these are living words To nerve the hearts of patriots— To steel avenging swords— They thrill the soul when spoken,

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…

WHERE shall we seek for a hero,… Our laurels are wreathed for conqu… But we honor a shrine unfinished,… If we sing the deed that was sown… Shall we take for a sign this Neg…

A MAN is not the slave of circum… Or need not be, but builder and di… He makes his own events, not time… Their logic his: not creature, but…

The bees are in the meadow And the swallows in the sky; The cattle in the shadow Watch the river running by. The wheat is hardly stirring;

THE world was made when a man was… He must taste for himself the forb… He can never take warning from old… He must fight as a boy, he must dr… Of the friend of his soul; he must…

PENAL COLONY OF WEST… THE sun rose o’er dark Fremantle… And the Sentry stood on the wall; Above him, with white lines swingi… The flag-staff, bare and tall:

Trapper died—our hero—and we griev… In every heart in camp the sorrow… “His soul was red!” the Indian cr… “A white man, he!” the grim old Y… So, brief and strong, each mourner…