Roving, roving, as it seems, Una lights my clouded dreams; Still for journeys she is dressed; We wander far by east and west. In the homestead, homely thought;

THOSE who are esteemed umpires of taste, are often persons who have acquired some knowledge of admired pictures or sculptures, and have an inclination for whatever is elegant; but if yo...

The sun goes down, and with him ta… The coarseness of my por attire; The fair moon mounts, and aye the… Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher. Pale Northern girls! you scorn ou…

Burly dozing humblebee! Where thou art is clime for me. Let them sail for Porto Rique, Far—off heats through seas to seek… I will follow thee alone,

Day! hast thou two faces, Making one place two places? One, by humble farmer seen, Chill and wet, unlighted, mean, Useful only, triste and damp,

The south—wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power,

I SEE all human wits Are measured but a few; Unmeasured still my Shakespeare s… Lone as the blessed Jew.

The green grass is growing, The morning wind is in it, ‘Tis a tune worth the knowing, Though it change every minute. ’Tis a tune of the spring,

Though loath to grieve The evil time’s sole patriot, I cannot leave My honied thought For the priest’s cant,

Higher far, Upward, into the pure realm, Over sun or star, Over the flickering Dæmon film, Thou must mount for love,—

Give me truths, For I am weary of the surfaces, And die of inanition. If I knew Only the herbs and simples of the… Rue, cinquefoil, gill, vervain, an…

We are met to exchange congratulations on the anniversary of an event singular in the history of civilization; a day of reason; of the clear light; of that which makes us better than a ...

Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy… With sudden passion languishing, Maketh all things softly smile, Painteth pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup with cowslip—wreaths,

I mourn upon this battle—field, But not for those who perished her… Behold the river—bank Whither the angry farmers came, In sloven dress and broken rank,

The lords of life, the lords of li… I saw them pass, In their own guise, Like and unlike, Portly and grim,