Along the branches of the laden tree The ripe fruit smiling hang. The afternoon Is emptied of all things done and things to be. Low in the sky the inconspicuous moon...
They come not from the sunny, sunny south, Nor from the Arctic region, Nor from the east, the busy, busy east, The where man's name is legion; But they come from the west, the rugged, rugged west,...
Cheerful and happy was his mood, He to the poor was kind and good, And he oft' times did find them food, Also supplies of coal and wood, He never spake a word was rude,...
Silvers and purples breathing in a sky Of fiery mid-days, like a watching tiger, Of the restrained but passionate July Upon the marshes of the river lie, Like the filmed pinions of the dragon fly. ...
Tom Simpson was as nice a kind of man As ever lived - at least at number Four, In Austin Friars, in Mrs. Brown's first floor, At fifty pounds, - or thereabouts, - per ann....
Here we halt our march, and pitch our tent On the rugged forest ground, And light our fire with the branches rent By winds from the beeches round. Wild storms have torn this ancient wood,...
He was weary of all of his usual joys; His books and his blocks made him tired, And so did his games and mechanical toys, And the songs he had always admired; So I told him a story, a story so new...
"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me? It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee. "And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun, As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun....
The harp of the minstrel has never a tone As sad as the song in his bosom to-night, For the magical touch of his fingers alone Can not waken the echoes that breathe it aright;...
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes And roofs of villages, on woodland crests And their aerial neighborhoods of nests Deserted, on the curtained window-panes...