(INSCRIBED TO ONE BEYO… Know by the thread of music woven… This fragile web of cadences I sp… That I have only caught these son… Voiced them upon your haunting vio…

You didn’t know Billy, did you? W… The greatest fellow you ever seen… An’ sing! say, you never heard sin… I used to say to him, “Billy, tha… A mighty sight more bank-notes to…

(NEW BRUNSWICK) The long red flats stretch open to… Breathing their moisture on the A… The seaweeds cling with flesh-like… The rocks give shelter that the sa…

Captive! Is there a hell to him l… A taunt more galling than the Hur… He—proud and scornful, he—who laug… He—scion of the deadly Iroquois, He—the bloodthirsty, he—the Mohaw…

I may not go to-night to Bethlehe… Nor follow star-directed ways, nor… The paths wherein the shepherds wa… To Christ, and peace, and God’s g… I may not hear the Herald Angel’s…

And then the sound of marching arm… Amid the branches of the soldier o… And tempests ceased their warring… The lashing storms that muttered,… Choked by the heralding of battle…

Plains, plains, and the prairie la… To the north the open country, sou… Never a bit of woodland, never a r… Only a stretch of cactus beds, and… Never a habitation, save where in…

Beyond a ridge of pine with russet… The west lifts to the sun her long… Her blushes stain with gold and ga… The shore, the river and the wide… Like floods of wine the waters fil…

At husking time the tassel fades To brown above the yellow blades, Whose rustling sheath enswathes th… That bursts its chrysalis in scorn Longer to lie in prison shades.

Speak of you, sir? You bet he did… To go back on a fellow just becaus… Why, sir, he thought a lot of you,… Says he, “The Squire will some ti… And give us the surprise.” And so…

Sob of fall, and song of forest, c… Calling through the seas and silen… Where the mountain pass is narrow,… Down its rocky-throated canyon, si… You are singing there together thr…

Who is it lacks the knowledge? Wh… To whine and sneer that they do no… But we of the North will answer,… Let the curs beware lest the whelp… For these are the kind whose muscl…

Little brown baby-bird, lapped in… Wrapped in your nest, Strapped in your nest, Your straight little cradle-board… Its hands are your nest;

The autumn afternoon is dying o’er The quiet western valley where I… Beneath the maples on the river sh… Where tinted leaves, blue waters a… Environ all; and far above some bi…

The sky-line melts from russet int… Unbroken the horizon, saving where A wreath of smoke curls up the far… And points the distant lodges of t… Etched where the lands and cloudla…