THERE is a shadow on the sunny w… Dark and forbidding, like a bode o… Go, drive it thence. Alas, such s… From real things, nor may be moved… There is a shadow on my heart to-d…

WHAT shall we mourn? For the pro… For the fallen cliff that fronted… For the eagle that died in the tem… Nay, not for these shall we weep;… And the golden fillet shrink back…

WHERE shall we seek for a hero,… Our laurels are wreathed for conqu… But we honor a shrine unfinished,… If we sing the deed that was sown… Shall we take for a sign this Neg…

THERE is no joy all set apart fr… The opening bud has loss as well a… The brightest dew-drop gems a bend… The rarest day has wept one little… But wholly blest the parting pain…

DEAR honored name, beloved for h… But loved and honored first that… In living proof to erring mortal e… That our poor earth is near akin t… Sweet word of dual meaning: one of…

HER hair was a waving bronze, and… Deep wells that might cover a broo… And who, till he weighed it, could… That her heart was a cinder instea…

MAJESTIC warder by the Nation’… Spike-crowned, flame-armed like A… Holding the tablets of some unknow… With gesture eloquent and mute as… We stand about thy feet in solemn…

St. Patrick’s Day WHAT a onion of hearts is the lo… When races of men in her name unit… For love of Old Erin, and love of… The boards of the Gael are full t…

THE day of Joseph’s marriage unt… In thoughful mood he said unto his… Behold, I go into a far-off count… To labor for thee, and to make thy… And home all sweet and peaceful.'…

THE world was made when a man was… He must taste for himself the forb… He can never take warning from old… He must fight as a boy, he must dr… Of the friend of his soul; he must…

‘You gave me the key of your heart… Then why do you make me knock?’ ‘O, that was yesterday, Saints ab… And last night—I changed the lock…

“HE is false to the heart!' she s… He promises fair as a tree in blos… The fruit is rotten ere ripe. Tea… All withered and wasted! and still… Comfort? There is no comfort when…

Only from day to day The life of a wise man runs: What matter if seasons far away Have gloom or have double suns? To climb the unreal path,

“Come, sing a new song to her here… They cry to her sons who sing; And one sings: ‘ Mavourneen, it m… To think how the sorrows cling, Like the clouds on your mountains,…

NOT on the word alone Let love depend; Neither by actions done Choose ye the friend. Let the slow years fly—