O the old trundle-bed where I slept when a boy! What canopied king might not covet the joy? The glory and peace of that slumber of mine, Like a long, gracious rest in the bosom divine:...
The orchard lands of Long Ago! O drowsy winds, awake, and blow The snowy blossoms back to me, And all the buds that used to be! Blow back along the grassy ways Of truant feet, and lift the haze...
O touch me with your hands - For pity's sake! My brow throbs ever on with such an ache As only your cool touch may take away; And so, I pray You, touch me with your hands! ...
The greeting of the company throughout Was like a jubilee, - the children's shout And fusillading hand-claps, with great guns And detonations of the older ones, Raged to such tumult of tempestuous joy,...
"When little 'Pollus Morton he's A-go' to speak a piece, w'y, nen The Teacher smiles an' says 'at she's Most proud, of all her little men An' women in her school - 'cause 'Poll...
The same old story told again - The maiden droops her head, The ripening glow of her crimson cheek Is answering in her stead. The pleading tone of a trembling voice Is telling her the way...
Wilful we are in our infirmity Of childish questioning and discontent. Whate'er befalls us is divinely meant - Thou Truth the clearer for thy mystery! Make us to meet what is or is to be...
A king - estranged from his loving Queen By a foolish royal whim - Tired and sick of the dull routine Of matters surrounding him - Issued a mandate in this wise. - "THE DOWER OF MY DAUGHTER'S HAND...
The touches of her hands are like the fall Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of down The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall; The flossy fondlings of the thistle-wisp...
O the night was dark and the night was late, And the robbers came to rob him; And they picked the locks of his palace-gate, The robbers that came to rob him - They picked the locks of his palace-gate,...
Time of crisp and tawny leaves, And of tarnished harvest sheaves, And of dusty grasses - weeds - Thistles, with their tufted seeds Voyaging the Autumn breeze Like as fairy argosies:...
"tired out!" Yet face and brow Do not look aweary now, And the eyelids lie like two Pure, white rose-leaves washed with dew. Was her life so hard a task? - Strange that we forget to ask...
Fer forty year and better you have been a friend to me, Through days of sore afflictions and dire adversity, You allus had a kind word of counsul to impart,...
The deadnin' and the thicket's jes' a b'ilin' full o' June, From the rattle o' the cricket, to the yaller-hammer's tune; And the catbird in the bottom and the sap-suck on the snag,...