Pompless no life can pass away; The lowliest career To the same pageant wends its way As that exalted here. How cordial is the mystery! The hospitable pall A "this way" beckons spaciously, --...
Not in this world to see his face Sounds long, until I read the place Where this is said to be But just the primer to a life Unopened, rare, upon the shelf, Clasped yet to him and me. ...
"GOING to him! Happy letter! Tell him -- Tell him the page I did n't write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun out. Tell him just how the fingers hurried,...
I know some lonely houses off the road A robber 'd like the look of, -- Wooden barred, And windows hanging low, Inviting to A portico, Where two could creep: One hand the tools,...