With a golden rolling sound Booming came a bell, From the aery in the tower Eagles fell; So with regal wings

So in the shadow by the nimble flo… He made her whistles of the willow… Flutes of one note with mellow sle… (A robin piping in the dusk alone)… Lively the pleasure was the wand t…

Here is the height of land: The watershed on either hand Goes down to Hudson Bay Or Lake Superior; The stars are up, and far away

The night is old, and all the worl… Is wearied out with strife; A long gray mist lies heavy and wa… Above the house of life. Four stars burn up and are unquell…

(The refrain is quoted by Edward… one of his letters) Growing, growing, all the glory go… Flashing out of fire and light, bu… All the world’s a-dying and failin…

A deep bell that links the downs To the drowsy air; Every loop of sound that swoons, Finds a circle fair, Whereon it doth rest and fade;

Dawn-cool, dew-cool Gleams the surface of my pool Bird haunted, fern enchanted, Where but tempered spirits rule; Stars do not trace their mystic li…

O noble youth that held our honour… And bore it sacred through the bat… How shall we give full measure of… To thy sharp labour, thy immortal… For though we sowed with doubtful…

Wind of the gentle summer night, Dwell in the lilac tree, Sway the blossoms clustered light, Then blow over to me. Wind, you are sometimes strong and…

(Aetat Six) Now every night we light the grate And I sit up till _really_ late; My Father sits upon the right, My Mother on the left, and I

Rufus Gale speaks—1852 Yes,—in the Lincoln Militia,—in t… Many’s the day I’ve had since the… But those are the years I remembe… When we left the plow in the furro…

Lay him down where the fern is thi… Fain was he for life, here lies he… With the blood washed clean from h… Lay him here in the dell where the… Let the birch-bark torches roar in…

Creep into my heart, creep in, cre… Afar from the fret, the toil and t… Where the spring of love forever f… As clear as light and as sweet as… (Creep into my heart),

Here in the pungent gloom Where the tamarac roses glow And the balsam burns its perfume, A vireo turns his slow Cadence, as if he gloated

March wind rough Clashed the trees, Flung the snow; Breaking stones, In the cold,