THE wind is out in its rage to—ni… And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and… But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low,

The poor man went to the rich man’… ‘I come as Lazarus came,’ he said… The rich man turned with humble he… ‘I will send my dogs to lick your…

In the tents of Akbar Are dole and grief to—day, For the flower of all the Indies Has gone the silent way. In the tents of Akbar

Not they who soar, but they who pl… Their rugged way, unhelped, to Go… Are heroes; they who higher fare, And, flying, fan the upper air, Miss all the toil that hugs the so…

If thro’ the sea of night which here summons me, I could swim out beyond the farthest star, Break every barrier of circumstanc…

When I come in f’om de co’n—fiel’… It 's amazin’ nice to fin’ my supp… An’ it 's nice to smell de coffee… An’ it 's fine to see de meat a—si… But when suppah—time is ovah, an’…

STEP me now a bridal measure, Work give way to love and leisure, Hearts be free and hearts be gay — Doctor Dan doth wed to—day. Diagnosis, cease your squalling —

‘In the fight at Brandywine, Blac… a scythe, sweeps his way through t… '_Myths and Legends of Our Own L… Gray are the pages of record, Dim are the volumes of eld;

UNCLE JOHN, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he’s jest so all—fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so, Ever’thing he wants to know. Tried to ketch me up last night,

I THINK that though the clouds… That though the waves dash o’er th… Yet after while the light will com… And in calm waters safe at home The bark will anchor.

Seems lak folks is mighty curus In de way dey t’inks an’ ac’s. Dey jes’ spen’s dey days a—mixin’ Up de t’ings in almanacs. Now, I min’ my nex’ do’ neighbour…

Little brown baby wif spa’klin’ ey… Come to yo’ pappy an’ set on his k… What you been doin’, suh —makin’ s… Look at dat bib —you’s es du’ty ez… Look at dat mouf —dat’s merlasses,…

As some rapt gazer on the lowly ea… Looks up to radiant planets, rangi… So I, whose soul doth know thy wo… Look longing up to thee as to a st…

SINCE I left the city’s heat For this sylvan, cool retreat, High upon the hill—side here Where the air is clean and clear, I have lost the urban ways.

(Lines on reading ‘Driftwood.’) Driftwood gathered here and there Along the beach of time; Now and then a chip of truth ‘Mid boards and boughs of rhyme;