White-shrouded, latest-born of all the year, In thy cold hands no bud or floweret bearing, Thou comest now to wail above the bier Of thy dead sisters--on thy bosom wearing...
Rock-sentineled, romantic stream! Thy waters flow with silvery gleam Where glassy pools and visions greet Embosomed in some cool retreat; Then rippling o'er a pebbly bed,...
You may boast about the landscapes fair so far across the sea Of castled Rhine, and southern France, and favored Italy-- But have you seen, when Springtime flings the scented blossoms down,...
The sweetest dreams, it seems to me, that we can ever know, Are those the fancy brings to us of days of long-ago, When rainbow-tinted pictures all are like a mirage flung...
There's a something in the atmosphere, in sweet September days, That mantles all the landscape with its languid, dreamy haze; And you see the leaves a-dropping, in a lazy kind of way,...
The Springtime am a-comin', and the dogwood soon will bloom, With the blossoms ten times thicker than the green leaves are in June, And if yer want some pleasure that I nominate divine,...
'Twas a place of fifty acres, in a lonely neighborhood, And near a grove of somber pines the shackly farm-house stood; And all the folks, for miles around, did solemnly declare...
Bright visions of childhood! How dear to the heart Are the scenes which from memory can never depart! Undimmed by the sorrows, the grief and the tears Which have shadowed the pathway of life's later years,...