Rare-sweet the air in that unimagined country - My spirit had wandered far From its weary body close-enwrapt in slumber Where its home and earth-friends are; A milk-like air - and of light all abundance;...
To the Wolf, from whose throat Dr Crane Drew the bone, his long bill made it plain He expected his fee: Snarled Wolf--"Fiddle de dee, Be thankful your head's out again." ...
If goodness were always the comrade of beauty I would seek a wife to-morrow; but as divorce between these two is no new thing, and as there are so few lovely forms that enshrine lovely souls, thus uniting both one and the other...
The Unicorn 's a first-rate sort. He helps the Lion to support The royal arms of England's King And keep the Throne from tottering. I wonder what the King would do If his supporters all withdrew?...
Each form of beauty's but the new disguise Of thoughts more beautiful than forms can be; Sceptics, who search with unanointed eyes, Never the Earth's wild fairy-dance shall see.
You that have gathered together the sons of all races, And welded them into one, Lifting the torch of your Freedom on hungering faces That sailed to the setting sun; ...
I Three in one, but one in three, God, who girt her with the sea, Bade our Commonweal to be: Nought, if now not one. Though fraud and fear would sever The bond assured for ever,...
By the Revolution's dead, By their Blood in battle shed, By the Earth that drank their gore, By the Heaven in which they soar, By the Union Stripe and Star, By the God of Righteous War,...
As we journey along, with a laugh and a song, We see, on youth's flower-decked slope, Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight, The beautiful Station of Hope. ...
Wild son of Heav'n, with laughter and alarm, Now East, now West, now North, now South he goes, Bearing in one harsh hand dark death and storm, And in the other, sunshine and a rose.
If the bird knew how through the wintry weather An empty nest would swing by day and night, It would not weave the strands so close together Or sing for such delight. ...
Ye aspiring ones, listen to the story of the unknown Who lies here with no stone to mark the place. As a boy reckless and wanton, Wandering with gun in hand through the forest...