WHO calls me bold because I won… And did not pine, And waste my life with secret pain… To make him mine? I us’d no arts; ’t was Nature’s s…

NOW, sitting by her side, worn ou… Behold, I fell to sleep, and had… Wherein I heard a wondrous Voice… Crying aloud, “The Master on His… Openeth now the seventh seal of wo…

There was a young lady named Laur… Who went to the wilds of Angora, She came back on a goat With a beautiful coat, And notes of the fauna and flora.

TO the Wake of O’Hara Came company; All St. Patrick’s Alley Was there to see, With the friends and kinsmen

There was a young lady of Niger Who smiled as she rode on a tiger; They returned from the ride With the lady inside, And the smile on the face of the t…

WHEN He returns, and finds the w… All sleeping, young and old, unfai… Will he stoop down and whisper in… “Awaken!” or for pity’s sake forbe… Saying, “How shall I meet their f…

UNDER her gentle seeing, In her delicate little hand, They placed the Book of Being, To read and understand. The Book was mighty and olden,

There once was an old monk of Bas… Whose salads were something amazin… But he told his confessor That Nebuchadnezzar Had given him hints upon grazing.

THERE is a singing in the summer… The blue and brown moths flutter o… The stubble bird is creaking in th… And perch’d upon the honeysuckle-h… Pipes the green linnet. Oh, the g…

Sing a song of Spring-time, The world is going round, Blown by the south wind: Listen to its sound. ‘Gurgle’ goes the mill-wheel,

There once was a girl of Lahore, The same shape behind as before; As no one knew where To offer a chair, She had to sit down on the floor.

SHE passes in her beauty bright Amongst the mean, amongst the gay, And all are brighter for the sight… And bless her as she goes her way. And now a gleam of pity pours,

Part I. A couple old sat o’er the fire, And they were bent and gray; They burned the charcoal for their… Who lived long leagues away.

CHILDREN indeed are we—childre… Within a wondrous dwelling, while… Stretch the sad vapors and the voi… The house is fair, yet all is deso… Because our Father comes not; clo…

HOW slowly creeps the hand of Ti… On the old clock’€™s green-mantled… Yea, slowly as those ivies climb, The hours roll round with patient… The drowsy rooks caw on the tower,