WE give thy natal day to hope, O Country of our love and prayer! Thy way is down no fatal slope, But up to freer sun and air. Tried as by furnace-fires, and yet

I mourn no more my vanished years Beneath a tender rain, An April rain of smiles and tears… My heart is young again. The west-winds blow, and, singing…

In calm and cool and silence, once… I find my old accustomed place amo… My brethren, where, perchance, no… Shall utter words; where never hym… Nor deep-toned organ blown, nor ce…

Ho! workers of the old time styled The Gentle Craft of Leather! Young brothers of the ancient guil… Stand forth once more together! Call out again your long array,

BEAR him, comrades, to his grave… Never over one more brave Shall the prairie grasses weep, In the ages yet to come, When the millions in our room,

On the isle of Penikese, Ringed about by sapphire seas, Fanned by breezes salt and cool, Stood the Master with his school. Over sails that not in vain

Maud Muller on a summer’s day Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the we… Of simple beauty and rustic health… Singing, she wrought, and her merr…

O storied vale of Merrimac Rejoice through all thy shade and… And from his century’s sleep call… A brave and honored son of thine. Unveil his effigy between

To kneel before some saintly shrin… To breathe the health of airs divi… Or bathe where sacred rivers flow, The cowled and turbaned pilgrims g… I too, a palmer, take, as they

His laurels fresh from song and la… Romance, art, science, rich in all… And young of heart, how dare we sa… We keep his seventieth festival? No sense is here of loss or lack;

TOKEN Of friendship true and tr… From one whose fiery heart of yout… With mine has beaten, side by side… For Liberty and Truth; With honest pride the gift I take…

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…

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,

O Mother Earth! upon thy lap Thy weary ones receiving, And o’er them, silent as a dream, Thy grassy mantle weaving, Fold softly in thy long embrace