SHINING, shining children Of the summer rain, Racing down the valley, Sweeping o’er the plain! Rushing through the forest,

WHO called us forth out of darkne… Who set our hands to the toiling,… Darkly they mused, predestined to… Sowing the seed of wisdom, guardin… Little they reckoned privation, hu…

MY heart is a garden of dreams Where you walk when day is done, Fair as the royal flowers, Calm as the lingering sun. Never a drouth comes there,

I SAID to Life, ‘How comes it, With all this wealth in store, Of beauty, joy, and knowledge, Thy cry is still for more? ’Count all the years of striving

NOW the joys of the road are chie… A crimson touch on the hard-wood t… A vagrant’s morning wide and blue, In early fall, when the wind walks… A shadowy highway cool and brown,

ALL day long beneath the sun Shining through the fields they ru… Singing in a cadence known To the seraphs round the throne. And the traveller drawing near

HERE by the gray north sea, In the wintry heart of the wild, Comes the old dream of thee, Guendolen, mistress and child. The heart of the forest grieves

ONCE in the Workshop, ages ago, The clay was wet and the fire was… And He who was bent on fashioning… Moulded a shape from a clod, And put the loyal heart therein;

OH, but life went gaily, gaily, In the house of Idiedaily! There were always throats to sing Down the river-banks with spring, When the stir of heart’s desire

Harvard, 1914 SIR, friends, and scholars, we ar… A high occasion. Our New England… All her unrivalled beauty as of ol… And June, with scent of bayberry…

WHEN I am only fit to go to bed, Or hobble out to sit within the su… Ring down the curtain, say the pla… And the last petals of the poppy s… I do not want to live when I am o…

TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin’s spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas… I give you joy, my friends, That as the round year ends,

To T. B. M. IN the crowd that thronged the pi… For new ventures in seafaring, whe… And we swung out in the current, w… ‘Midst the waving caps and kisses,…

One August day I sat beside A café window open wide To let the shower-fresh ened air Blow in across the Plaza, where In golden pomp against the dark

To H. E. C. THERE are sunflowers too in my g… Where now in the early September… The slow autumn sun that goes leis… Of life in the orchards and fir-wo…