Our hands have met, but not our hearts; Our hands will never meet again. Friends, if we have ever been, Friends we cannot now remain: I only know I loved you once, I only know I loved in vain;...
I thank Thee Father that I feel Thee near, That it is hand of Thine that s raised to smite, Oh, make Thy loving kindness to appear, Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right! ...
I know not what among the grass thou art, Thy nature, nor thy substance, fairest flower, Nor what to other eyes thou hast of power To send thine image through them to the heart;...
Pass, pass, you fiery spirit! Never bland And halting never! Hosted round to-night, At the great wall, with spears of lifted light, Held by embattled seraphim, who stand...
You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced, Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea, Gulping salt-water everlastingly, Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,...
Come away, come away, little fly! Don't disturb the sweet calm of love's nest: If you do, I protest you shall die, And your tomb be that beautiful breast.
Courage yet! my brother or my sister! Keep on! Liberty is to be subserv'd, whatever occurs; That is nothing, that is quell'd by one or two failures, or any number of failures,...
Don't take it hard, my friend, this too - soon exit. Immortal life... who bought, or made a deal? You see, the kind of life a fellow chooses Marks off his years and on them sets its seal....
Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind? He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen, And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind. ...
Here in the fairway Fetching--foul of keel, Long-stray but fortunate-- Out of the fogs, the vast Atlantic solitudes. Shall, by the hawser-pin Waiting the signal Leave--go--anchor!...
Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind? He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen, And Tmolus' hill, and Smyrna's bay, though blind....
How smiled the land of France Under thy blue eye's glance, Light-hearted rover Old walls of chateaux gray, Towers of an early day, Which the Three Colors play...
Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng! Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears; To busy phantasies, and boding fears, Lest ill betide thee; but 'twill not be long...
Ah! be not sad, though adverse winds may blow, Thy patience and thy fortitude to prove; Thy Saviour wears no frown upon his brow, "'Tis but the graver countenance of love." ...
With kindly thoughts full oft we've met, And bow'd at Friendship's sacred shrine; Oh, may we ne'er those thoughts forget, But may they still our hearts entwine.
By especial request I take up my pen, To write a few lines to my dear Mrs. N.; And though nothing of depth she has right to expect; Yet the will for the deed she will not reject...
On thee, blest youth, a father's hand confers The maid thy earliest, fondest wishes knew. Each soft enchantment of the soul is hers; Thine be the joys to firm attachment due. ...