Is it the Spring? Or are the birds all wrong That play on flute and viol, A thousand strong, In minstrel galleries Of the long deep wood, Epiphanies Of bloom and bud. ...
Friends whom to-night once more I greet, Most glad am I with you to be, And, as I look around, I meet Many a face right good to see; But one I miss - ah! where is he? - Of merry eye and sparkling jest,...
God of the Wine List, roseate lord, And is it really then good-by? Of Prohibitionists abhorred, Must thou in sorry sooth then die, (O fatal morning of July!) Nor aught hold back the threatened hour...
Tested and staunch through many a changing year, Gelert, his master's faithful hound, lies here. Humble in friendship, but in service proud, He gave to man whate'er his lot allowed;...
Silence, whose drowsy eyelids are soft leaves, And whose half-sleeping eyes are the blue flowers, On whose still breast the water-lily heaves, For all her speech the whisper of the showers. ...
How fast the year is going by! Love, it will be September soon; O let us make the best of June. Already, love, it is July; The rose and honeysuckle go, And all too soon will come the snow. ...
I'm not sorry I am older, love - are you? Over all youth's fuss and flurry, All its everlasting hurry, All its solemn self-importance and to-do. Perhaps we missed the highest reaches of high art;...
The world grows Lilliput, the great men go; If greatness be, it wears no outer sign; No more the signet of the mighty line Stamps the great brow for all the world to know....
America grows poorer day by day - Richer and richer, I have heard some say: They thought of a poor wealth I do not heed - For, one by one, the men who dreamed the dream...
Singing go I, seeking for ever a song Sung long ago; I ask no more to hear Her voice that sang - for I should do her wrong, Had I the power, to bring her once more near - ...
The bloom upon the grape I ask no more, Nor pampered fragrance of the soft-lipped rose, I only ask of Him who keeps the Door - To open it for one who fearless goes Into the dark, from which, reluctant, came...
I dwell, with all things great and fair: The green earth and the lustral air, The sacred spaces of the sea, Day in, day out, companion me. Pure-faced, pure-thoughted, folk are mine...