A DREAR and desolate shore! Where no tree unfolds its leaves, And never the spring wind weaves Green grass for the hunter’s tread… A land forsaken and dead,

'Get ye up from the wrath of God’… Ungirded, unsandalled, arise and a… ‘T is the vintage of blood, ’t is… And vengeance shall gather the har… The warning was spoken—the righteo…

NAUHAUGHT, the Indian deacon,… Dwelt, poor but blameless, where h… Stretches its shrunk arm out to al… And the relentless smiting of the… Awoke one morning from a pleasant…

ROBERT RAWLIN!—Frosts were f… When the ranger’s horn was calling Through the woods to Canada. Gone the winter’s sleet and snowin… Gone the spring-time’s bud and blo…

The Persian’s flowery gifts, the… Of fruitful Ceres, charm no more; The woven wreaths of oak and pine Are dust along the Isthmian shore… But beauty hath its homage still,

O Dearly loved! And worthy of our love! No more Thy aged form shall rise before The bushed and waiting worshiper, In meek obedience utterance giving

Gone hath the Spring, with all it… And gone the Summer’s pomp and sh… And Autumn, in his leafless bower… Is waiting for the Winter’s snow. I said to Earth, so cold and gray…

I would not sin, in this half-play… Too light perhaps for serious year… Of the enforced leisure of slow pa… Against the pure ideal which has d… My feet to follow its far-shining…

Thrice welcome from the Land of F… And golden-fruited orange bowers To this sweet, green-turfed June… To her who, in our evil time, Dragged into light the nation’s cr…

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To H… Gone, gone, - sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swi… Where the noisome insect stings

THROUGH heat and cold, and show… Still onward cheerly driving! There’s life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving. But see! the day is closing cool,

O Mother State! the winds of Mar… Blew chill o’er Auburn’s Field of… Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch Of sky, thy mourning children trod… And now, with all thy woods in lea…

BEARER of Freedom’s holy light, Breaker of Slavery’s chain and ro… The foe of all which pains the sig… Or wounds the generous ear of God… Beautiful yet thy temples rise,

Of all that Orient lands can vaun… Of marvels with our own competing, The strangest is the Haschish pla… And what will follow on its eating… What pictures to the taster rise,

KNOW’ST thou, O slave-cursed la… How, when the Chian’s cup of guil… Was full to overflow, there came God’s justice in the sword of flam… That, red with slaughter to its hi…