I knew that a baby was hid in the house; Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry, But the husband went tiptoeing round like a mouse, And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;...
This song that I sing-- It is not of a spring, Nor yet of a silvery stream-- But of a vision bright Which came last night In the garb of a blissful dream-- When I thought, as I lay,...
Although I shall not see his face For the low riding of the ship, The three armorial oak-leaves on his cloak Will be enough. But what if I make a mistake And call to the wrong man?...
When first I saw our banner wave Above the nation's council-hall, I heard beneath its marble wall The clanking fetters of the slave! In the foul market-place I stood, And saw the Christian mother sold,...
The little hands returning wistfully From birdlike wand'rings, ever come to rest, On fostering hand on tender cheek or breast; The upturned eyes, with loving certainty...
O child of mine, my little Son, alas! Beneath the sunlight of Thy gentle eyes, Too soon, too soon, what fateful shadows rise, Like night foretold in some sweet woodland glass?...
Behold! the Tabernacle of God's Will This woman's form enshrineth. What is this, More glorious than all our age-long bliss, Which shines within the shadow of her sill?...
"Gabble-gabble,... brethren,... gabble-gabble!" My window frames forest and heather. I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whether The text is praise or exhortation,...
The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow-crook?...
That painter has not with a careless smutch Accomplished his despair?--one touch revealing All he had put of life, thought, vigor, feeling, Into the canvas that without that touch...
Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov'd as old again....
See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty;...
Oh, hadst thou fall'n, brave youth! on that proud day,[1] When our victorious fleet o'er the red surge Rolled in terrific glory, thou hadst fall'n Most honoured; and Remembrance, while she thought...
She had been told that God made all the stars That twinkled up in heaven, and now she stood Watching the coming of the twilight on, As if it were a new and perfect world,...
What sweeter music can we bring, Than a Carol, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly King? Awake the Voice! Awake the String! Heart, Ear, and Eye, and every thing...
The Child with the wondering eyes sat on the doorstep, on either side of her a tramp cat in process of becoming a recognised member of society. On the flagged path in front the brown brethren were picking up crumbs. The cats' w...