Works

Where the rails converge to the station yard
She stands one moment, breathing hard,

And then, with a snort and a clang of steel,
She settles her strength to the stubborn wheel,
...

When merry milkmaids to their cattle call
At evenfall
And voices range
Loud through the gloam from grange to quiet grange,

Wild waif-songs from long distant lands and loves,
Like migrant doves,...

If fate had held a careless knife
And clipped one line that drew,
Of all the myriad lines of life,
From Eden up to you;
If, in the wars and wastes of time,
One sire had met the sword,...

Oh, I can jest with Margaret
And laugh a gay good-night,
But when I take my Helen's hand
I dare not clasp it tight.

I dare not hold her dear white hand
More than a quivering space,...