A little white soul went up to God, Out of the mire of the city street; It grew like a flower in the highway broad, Close to the trample of heedless feet.
The poet's song, and the bird's, And the waters' that chant as they run And the waves' that kiss the beach, And the wind's--they are but one. He who may read their words, And the secret hid in each,...
Art thou not sweet, Oh world, and glad to the inmost heart of thee! All creatures rejoice With one rapturous voice. As I, with the passionate beat Of my over-full heart feel thee sweet,...
There is a splendid tropic flower which flings Its fiery disc wide open to the core-- One pulse of subtlest fragrance--once a life That rounds a century of blossoming things...
I lift my spirit to your cloudy thrones, And feel it broaden to your vast expanse, Oh! mountains, so immeasurably old, Crowned with bald rocks and everlasting cold,...
Swift and silent and strong Under the low-browed arches, Through culverts, and under bridges, Sweeping with long forced marches Down to the ultimate ridges,-- The sand, and the reeds, and the midges,...
"Oh! spare dual idols of the past, Whose lips are dumb, whose eyes are dim; Truth's diadem is not for him Who comes, the fierce Iconoclast: Who wakes the battle's stormy blast,...
Dimly and dumbly under the ground, Groping the walls of their prison round, The roots of the aged and garrulous trees Are sending electrical messages From the under-world to the world without...
O not with arms reversed, And the slow beating of the muffled drum, And funeral marches, bring our hero home These stormy woods where his young heart was nursed Ring with a trumpet burst...
In those dark mornings, deep in June, When brooding birds stir in the nest, And heavy dews slip down the leaves, And drop into the rose's breast, I woke and looked into the east,...
From out the dark of death, before the gates Flung wide, that open into paradise-- More radiant than the white gates of the morn-- A human soul, new-born, Stood with glad wonder in its luminous eyes,...
The moon went under a ragged cloud, The owl cried out of the ruined wall, Slow and solemn, distinct and loud, His melancholy call: Tu-whit, tu-whit, tu-whoo! Like a creature in a shroud. ...