Once when the park Was very dark I slipped out and went walking; And heard the trees To the summer breeze,

Here where the season turns the la… Among the fields our feet have kno… When we were children who would la… Glad little playmates of the wind… Before came toil and care and year…

Universes are the pages Of that book whose words are ages; Of that book which destiny Opens in eternity. There each syllable expresses

How often in our search for joy be… Hoping for happiness we chance on…

Christmas is just one week off, And Old Santa’s in the house; In the attic heard a cough Th’ other day when not a mouse Nor a rat, I know, was there.

A shadow glided down the way Where sunset groped among the tree… And all the woodland bower, asway With trouble of the evening breeze… A shape, it moved with head held d…

When wildflower blue and wildflowe… The wildflowers lay their heads to… And the moon-moth glimmers along t… And the wandering firefly flares i… And the full moon rises broad and…

Masks Death rides black-masked to-night;… Madness beside him brandishes a to… The peaceful farmhouse with its vi… Lies in their way. Death lifts a…

Tattered, in ragged raiment of the… The Night arrives. Outside the wi… He stands and, streaming, taps upo… Or, crouching down beside the cell… Letting his hat-brim drain,

All day the clouds hung ashen with… And through the snow the muffled w… The day seemed drowned in grief to… Like some old hermit whose last be… At eve the wind woke, and the snow…

THERE is a smell of roses in the… Tea-roses, dead of bloom; An invalid, she sits there in the… And contemplates her doom. The pattern of the paper, and the…

A friend for you and a friend for… A friend to understand; To cheer the way and help the day With heart as well as hand: With heart as well as hand, my dea…

Yea, this is he, whose name is syn… Of all that’s noble, though but lo… Who took command upon a stormy mor… When few had hope. Although uncou… Homely of face and gaunt, but neve…

An old, lost lane; where can it le… To stony pastures, where the weed Purples its plume, or sails its se… And from one knoll, the vetch make… Trailing its glimmering ribbon on,

The Alps of the Tyrol are dark wi… Where, foaming under the mountain… The Inn’s long water sounds and s… Beyond, are peaks where the mornin… An icy rose; and the evening leave…