From the well-springs of Hudson,… Grave men, sober matrons, you gath… And, with hearts warmer grown as y… Play over the old game of going to… All your strifes and vexations, yo…

My thoughts are all in yonder town… Where, wept by many tears, To-day my mother’s friend lays dow… The burden of her years. True as in life, no poor disguise

Oh, none in all the world before Were ever glad as we! We’re free on Carolina’s shore, We’re all at home and free. Thou Friend and Helper of the poo…

Andrew Rykman’s dead and gone; You can see his leaning slate In the graveyard, and thereon Read his name and date. Trust is truer than our fears

THE storm and peril overpast, The hounding hatred shamed and sti… Go, soul of freedom! take at last The place which thou alone canst f… Confirm the lesson taught of old—

They left their home of summer eas… Beneath the lowland’s sheltering t… To seek, by ways unknown to all, The promise of the waterfall. Some vague, faint rumor to the val…

God’s love and peace be with thee,… Soe’er this soft autumnal air Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair… Whether through city casements com… Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms…

How sweetly come the holy psalms From saints and martyrs down, The waving of triumphal palms Above the thorny crown The choral praise, the chanted pra…

Our fathers’ God! from out whose… The centuries fall like grains of… We meet to-day, united, free, And loyal to our land and Thee, To thank Thee for the era done,

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,

PRELUDE ALONG the roadside, like the flo… That tawny Incas for their garden… Heavy with sunshine droops the gol… And the red pennons of the cardina…

The time of gifts has come again, And, on my northern window-pane, Outlined against the day’s brief l… A Christmas token hangs in sight. The wayside travellers, as they pa…

1640-1890. O river winding to the sea! We call the old time back to thee; From forest paths and water-ways The century-woven veil we raise.

ON RECEIVING A SPRIG… No more these simple flowers belon… To Scottish maid and lover; Sown in the common soil of song, They bloom the wide world over.

Though flowers have perished at th… Of Frost, the early comer, I hail the season loved so much, The good St. Martin’s summer. O gracious morn, with rose-red daw…