INTRA MUROS THE sunbeams, lost for half a yea… Slant through my pane their mornin… For dry northwesters cold and clea… The east blows in its thin blue ha…

HE sleeps not here; in hope and p… His wandering flock had gone befor… But he, the shepherd, might not sh… Their sorrows on the wintry shore. Before the Speedwell’s anchor swu…

WRITTEN AT SEA IF sometimes in the dark blue eye… Or in the deep red wine, Or soothed by gentlest melody, Still warms this heart of mine,

AND can it be you’ve found a plac… Within this consecrated space, That makes so fine a show, For one of Rip Van Winkle’s race… And is it really so?

Now, by the blessed Paphian queen… Who heaves the breast of sweet six… By every name I cut on bark Before my morning star grew dark; By Hymen’s torch, by Cupid’s dart…

READ AT THE MEETING H… FEBRUARY 8, 1876, IN MEM… LEADER of armies, Israel’s God… Thy soldier’s fight is won! Master, whose lowly path he trod,

'OUR FIRST CITIZEN’ WINTER’S cold drift lies gliste… For him no spring shall bid the le… What Love could speak, by sudden… What swiftly summoned Memory tell…

WITH SLIGHT ALTERATI… COME! fill a fresh bumper, for w… While the nectar (logwood) still r… Pour out the rich juices (decoctio… Till o’er the brimmed crystal the…

J. A. ONE memory trembles on our lips; It throbs in every breast; In tear-dimmed eyes, in mirth’s ec… The shadow stands confessed.

‘A SPANISH GIRL IN REVER… SHE twirled the string of golden… That round her neck was hung,—- My grandsire’s gift; the good old… Loved girls when he was young;

YES, lady! I can ne’er forget, That once in other years we met; Thy memory may perchance recall A festal eve, a rose-wreathed hall… Its tapers’ blaze, its mirrors’ gl…

AN ACADEMIC POEM 1829-1879 Read at the Commencement Dinner o… University, June 25, 1879. WHILE fond, sad memories all aro…

There are three ways in which men… One’s money from his purse, And very hard it is to tell Which of the three is worse; But all of them are bad enough

DANVERS, 1866 BANKRUPT! our pockets inside o… Empty of words to speak his praise… Worcester and Webster up the spou… Dead broke of laudatory phrases!

SEXTON! Martha’s dead and gone; Toll the bell! toll the bell! Her weary hands their labor cease; Good night, poor Martha,—sleep in… Toll the bell!