The snow lies deep upon the ground… And winter’s brightness all around Decks bravely out the forest sere, With jewels of the brave old year. The coasting crowd upon the hill

In the east the morning comes, Hear the rollin’ of the drums On the hill. But the heart that beat as they be… In the battle’s raging day heat

Say a mass for my soul’s repose, m… Say a mass for my soul’s repose,… Lovingly lived we, the sons of one… Mine was the sin, but I pray you… Dark were her eyes as the sloe and…

Pray why are you so bare, so bare, Oh, bough of the old oak—tree; And why, when I go through the sh… Runs a shudder over me? My leaves were green as the best,…

FU’ de peace o’ my eachin’ heels,… Don’ fiddle dat chune no mo’. Don’ you see how dat melody stuhs… An’ baigs me to tek to de flo’? You knows I’s a Christian, good a…

Treat me nice, Miss Mandy Jane, Treat me nice. Dough my love has tu’ned my brain, Treat me nice. I ain’t done a t’ing to shame,

SILENCE, and whirling worlds af… Through all encircling skies. What floods come o’er the spirit’s… What wondrous thoughts arise. The earth, a mantle falls away,

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

I BE’N down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an’ say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin’ oxen Fur to tear myse’f away. Allus argerin’ 'bout fren’ship

As in some dim baronial hall restr… A prisoner sits, engirt by secret… And waving tapestries that argue f… Strange passages into the outer ai… So in this dimmer room which we ca…

Back to the breast of thy mother, Child of the earth! E’en her caress can not smother What thou hast done. Follow the trail of the westering…

At the golden gate of song Stood I, knocking all day long, But the Angel, calm and cold, Still refused and bade me, ‘Hold.… Then a breath of soft perfume,

Key and bar, key and bar, Iron bolt and chain! And what will you do when the Kin… To enter his domain? Turn key and lift bar,

Slow de night 's a—fallin’, An’ I hyeah de callin, Out erpon de lonesome hill; Soun’ is moughty dreary, Solemn—lak an’ skeery,

KNOW you, winds that blow your c… Down the verdant valleys, That somewhere you must, perforce, Kiss the brow of Alice? When her gentle face you find,