The years have passed in ceaseless round Since first they laid her here to rest In dreamless sleep beneath the silent mound, With folded hands upon her gentle breast.
O others may boast of their pleasures galore-- The miser with rapture may count o'er his store, And some may imagine great happiness there In the gay shining beam of Society's glare;...
The sun has sunk in the crimson west, And "around the languid eyes of day" The Twilight's dreamy shadows rest And light and shade alternate play; The winds are hushed, nor leaf nor flower...
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 music put in song since Robby Burns's time Is that which breathes its harmony from Georgia's sunny clime, Where the fragrant-scented odor that the climbing jasmine flings...
One Autumn evening, wandering, when the sun was hanging low, Through a woodland where the music of a streamlet's gentle flow Commingled with the rustling of the yellow golden leaves,...
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,...
When the burning sun of Summer shines from out a brassy sky, And has parched and browned the meadows, and the creek's run dry, O sweet it is to wander there and hear the water sing...
By magic spell was I entranced When on me first thy brown eyes glanced, And sunbeams played at hide and seek Thro' silken ringlets on thy dimpling cheek, And like some glorious halo shed...
Let tipplers all boast of the pleasure divine That is found in old whisky, in beer and in wine-- But what are all those to a feller who knows Where the "Medical Spring" in its purity flows,...
With its rude walls of stone and its moss-covered roof-- ('Tis a picture inwoven with memory's woof)-- It stands there to-day, as it stood in the years When we knew naught of sorrow--nor anguish--nor tears;...
No matter what the weather was, in good old stage coach days, The driver with his ruddy face and spanking team of bays Would spin along the turnpike road, o'er level stretch and hill,...
'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...
O sweet are the memories when backward we gaze Through the vista of years to our schoolboy days, When faces now vanished to the vision appear And the music of voices long hushed we can hear,...
I can see the back-log blazing and the sparkles take their flight Up the cavernous old chimney on a merry Christmas night; I can see the old folks smiling and the children's cheeks aglow,...
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,...