Hark! high o'er the rattle and clamour and clatter Of traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud noise? And pushing and rushing to see what's the matter, Like herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the boys. ...
The bold young Autumn came riding along One day where an elm-tree grew. "You are fair," he said, as she bent down her head, "Too fair for your robe's dull hue. You are far too young for a garb so old;...
Lie down, and let the billows hide your shame, Oh, shorn and naked outcast of the seas! You who confided to each ocean breeze Your coming conquests, and made loud acclaim...
O Beautiful white Angels! who control The inner workings of each poet soul, Thou who hast touched my mind with tender graces Come near to me that I may see thy faces. ...
Oh! it is not just the men who face the guns, Not the fighters at the Front alone, to-day Who will bring the longed-for close to the bloody fray, for those Could not carry on that fray without the ones...
All through the Castle of High-bred Ease, Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please, Spread consternation and wild despair. The queen was wringing her hands and hair;...
Is this the way to greet thy loving spouse, But now returned from scenes of blood and strife? I pray thee raise thy veil and let me gaze Upon that beauty which hath greater power...
Under the snow in the dark and the cold, A pale little sprout was humming; Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold, Of the beautiful days that were coming. ...
Under the snow, in the dark and the cold, A pale little sprout was humming; Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mould, Of the beautiful days that were coming. ...
In the journey of life, as we travel along To the mystical goal that is hidden from sight, You may stumble at times into Roadways of Wrong, Not seeing the sign-board that points to the right....
One ship drives east and another drives west, With the self-same winds that blow, 'Tis the set of the sails And not the gales That tell them the way to go....
One day Ambition, in his endless round, All filled with vague and nameless longings, found Slow wasting Genius, who from spot to spot Went idly grazing, through the Realms of Thought. ...
In Vanity Fair, as we bow and smile, As we talk of the opera after the weather, As we chat of fashion and fad and style, We know we are playing a part together....
You will forget me. The years are so tender, They bind up the wounds which we think are so deep; This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor Fades from the skies when the sun sinks to sleep;...