The clouds, which rise with thunde… Our thirsty souls with rain; The blow most dreaded falls to bre… From off our limbs a chain; And wrongs of man to man but make

Addressed to Francis Greenleaf A… You scarcely need my tardy thanks, Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend… A green leaf on your own Green Ba… The memory of your friend.

Our vales are sweet with fern and… Our hills are maple-crowned; But not from them our fathers chos… The village burying-ground. The dreariest spot in all the land

Amidst these glorious works of Th… The solemn minarets of the pine, And awful Shasta’s icy shrine,— Where swell Thy hymns from wave a… And organ-thunders never fail,

MY ear is full of summer sounds, Of summer sights my languid eye; Beyond the dusty village bounds I loiter in my daily rounds, And in the noon-time shadows lie.

THROUGH the long hall the shutt… A dubious light on every upturned… On locks like those of Absalom th… On the bald apex ringed with scant… On blank indifference and on curio…

O lonely bay of Trinity, O dreary shores, give ear! Lean down unto the white-lipped se… The voice of God to hear! From world to world His couriers…

FRANCONIA FROM THE P… Once more, O Mountains of the No… Your brows, and lay your cloudy ma… And once more, ere the eyes that s… Uplift against the blue walls of t…

In trance and dream of old, God’s… The casting down of thrones. Thou… The hot Sardinian coast-line, haz… Where, fringing round Caprera’s r… With foam, the slow waves gather a…

How has New England’s romance fle… Even as a vision of the morning! Its rites foredone, its guardians… Its priestesses, bereft of dread, Waking the veriest urchin’s scorni…

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE’S… THE tall, sallow guardsmen their… Flaming out in their violet, yello… And behind go the lackeys in crims… And the chamberlains gorgeous in v…

The shadows round the inland sea Are deepening into night; Slow up the slopes of Ossipee They chase the lessening light. Tired of the long day’s blinding h…

ACCOMPANYING MANUS… 'T is said that in the Holy Land The angels of the place have bless… The pilgrim’s bed of desert sand, Like Jacob’s stone of rest.

ANNIE and Rhoda, sisters twain, Woke in the night to the sound of… The rush of wind, the ramp and roa… Of great waves climbing a rocky sh… Annie rose up in her bed-gown whit…

Ere down yon blue Carpathian hill… The sun shall sink again, Farewell to life and all its ills, Farewell to cell and chain! These prison shades are dark and c…