Fling out your banners, your honor… Raise to the ether your paeans of… Strike every chord and let music b… Celebrate freely this day of all d… Few are the years since that notab…

He sang of life, serenely sweet, With, now and then, a deeper note. From some high peak, nigh yet remo… He voiced the world’s absorbing be… He sang of love when earth was you…

Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the su… And a mantle, too, of the skies’ s… And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind,

In Life’s Red Sea with faith I p… And wait the sound of that sustain… Which long ago the men of Israel… When Pharaoh’s host behind them,… Raged on, consuming with revengefu…

Pray, what can dreams avail To make love or to mar? The child within the cradle rail Lies dreaming of the star. But is the star by this beguiled

COVER him over with daisies whit… And eke with the poppies red, Sit with me here by his couch to—n… For the First—Born, Love, is dea… Poor little fellow, he seemed so f…

I DID not know that life could b… I did not know the hours could spe… Till I knew you, and life was swe… The days grew brief with love and… I was a slave a few short days ago…

WHAT if the wind do howl without… And turn the creaking weather—vane… What if the arrows of the rain Do beat against the window—pane? Art thou not armored strong and fa…

Men may sing of their Havanas, el… The real or fancied virtues of the… But I worship Nicotina at a diffe… And she sits enthroned in glory in… It ‘s as fragrant as the meadows w…

'T is better to sit here beside th… Here on the spray—kissed beach, In silence, that between such frie… Is full of deepest speech.

See dis pictyah in my han’? Dat’s my gal; Ain’t she purty? goodness lan’! Huh name Sal. Dat’s de very way she be—

She gave a rose, And I kissed it and pressed it. I love her, she knows, And my action confessed it. She gave me a rose,

HE scribbles some in prose and ve… And now and then he prints it; He paints a little, —gathers some Of Nature’s gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song,

He was a poet who wrote clever ver… And folks said he had a fine poeti… But his father, a practical farmer… Of letting the strength of his arm… He called on his sweetheart each…

Summah night an’ sighin’ breeze, 'Long de lovah’s lane; Frien’ly, shadder—mekin’ trees, 'Long de lovah’s lane. White folks’ wo’k all done up gran…