Works

Oh, who will hush that cry outside the doors,
While we are glad within?
Go forth, go forth, all you my servitors;
(And gather close, my kin.)
Go out to her. Tell her we keep a feast,--...

Beautiful Mother, I have toiled all day;
And I am wearied. And the day is done.
Now, while the wild brooks run
Soft by the furrows--fading, gold to gray,
Their laughters turned to musing--ah, let me...

Light, light,--the last:
Till the night be done,
Keep the watch for stars and sun, and eyelids over-cast.

Once there seemed a sky,
Brooding over men....