Free-verse

Still linger in our noon of time And on our Saxon tongue The echoes of the home-born hymns

The wind last night was wild and strong, It shriek'd, it whistl'd and it roar'd, And went with whirl and swoop along,

To fetch me wine my Lucia went, Bearing a crystal continent: But, making haste, it came to pass

Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand With power, and Princes in their Congregations

A little crippled figure, two big pathetic eyes, A face that looked unchildish, so wan it was and wise; I watched her as the homesick tears came chasing down each cheek.

This is the way we wash the clo'es Free from dirt and smoke and clay! Through and through the water flows,

HEWLETT! as ship to ship Let us the ensign dip. There may be who despise

My beauty lives in a cottage grey by a gentle river's mouth, A cottage grey by the lone sea-shore away in the sunny south, Her eye's as fair, oh fairer, than the moonlight o'er the sea,

Tune - "Kellyburn Braes." I. There lived a carle on Kellyburn braes,

At midnight, death's and truth's unlocking time, When far within the spirit's hearing rolls The great soft rumble of the course of things -

One two, is one to you: One two three, is one to me. Throw it fast or not at all,

Last night - how deep the darkness was! And well I knew its depths, because I waded it from shore to shore,

Amor m' ha posto come segno a strale. LOVE'S ARMOURY. Love makes me as the target for his dart,

He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.

I d' miei pi' leggier che nessun cervo. HIS PASSION FINDS ITS ONLY CONSOLATION IN CONTEMPLATING HER IN HEAVEN. My days more swiftly than the forest hind

Strong are thine arms, O love, & strong Thine heart to live, and love, and long; But thou art wed to grief and wrong:

THE PERSONS. FIRST ISRAELITISH PROPHET. SECOND ISRAELITISH PROPHET.

The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out

Why! who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,

I How can I help from laughing while The daffodilies at me smile;

There was a lord that hight Maltete, Among great lords he was right great, On poor folk trod he like the dirt,

Argument Of The Fifteenth Book. Jove, awaking and seeing the Trojans routed, threatens Juno. He sends Iris to admonish Neptune to relinquish the battle, and Apollo to restore health to Hector. Apollo armed with the 'gis, puts to flight the Grecians; they are pursued home to their fleet, and Telamonian Ajax slays twelve Trojans bringing fire to burn it. But when the flying Trojans had o'erpass'd

These market-dames, mid-aged, with lips thin-drawn, And tissues sere, Are they the ones we loved in years agone,

JULY 28, 1728 Sure never did man see A wretch like poor Nancy,

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair

"A German will teach Irish at the University of Illinois, beginning in February, when Dr. Kuno E. Meyer of the University of Berlin will become visiting professor of the Celtic language and literature." - Press Despatch. Go back, dear Kuno, to the Poles and Alsatians, And teach them the language your nation has robbed;

Dedication These to His Memory--since he held them dear, Perchance as finding there unconsciously

I. Now, now's the time, so oft by truth Promis'd should come to crown your youth.

This moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone, It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them, in Germany, Italy,

Shy one, Shy one, Shy one of my heart, She moves in the firelight

If those who wield the Rod forget, 'Tis truly--Quis custodiet? A certain Bard (as Bards will do)

We got up a Christmas-doin's Last Christmas Eve - Kindo' dimonstration

(Mrs. Jefferson Davis, widow of the President of the Southern Confederacy died October 16, 1906.) Oh weep fair South, and bow thy head For one is gone beyond recall!

Come listen to me, you gallants so free, All you that love mirth for to hear, And I will tell you of a bold outlaw,

[Dignities would be the better title, if the word were not so essentially unpoetical.] When the column of light on the waters is glassed, As blent in one glow seem the shine and the stream;

Once, methought, in the night hours cold, That I saw the moon in my sleep; But as soon as I waken'd, behold

WRITTEN IN IRELAND. 1799. Of all my happiest hours of joy, And even I have had my measure,

Christian, lookup? thy feet may slide; This is a slippery way! Yet One is walking by thy side

The treacherous sands had caught our boat, And held it with a strong embrace And death at our imprisoned crew

I know that he exists Somewhere, in silence. He has hid his rare life

Salve magna parens frugum Saturnia tellus, Magna vir'm! tibi res antiqu' laudis et artis Aggredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes.

Blossoms crimson, white, or blue, Purple, pink, and every hue, From sunny skies, to tintings drowned

Goldbrown upon the sated flood The rockvine clusters lift and sway; Vast wings above the lambent waters brood

Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II.i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain

Halifax sits on her hills by the sea In the might of her pride, - Invincible, terrible, beautiful, she

What are the falling rills, the pendant shades, The morning bowers, the evening colonnades, But soft recesses for th' uneasy mind

Here there is balm for every tender heart Wounded by life; Rest for each one who bore a valiant part

On sunny slope and beechen swell, The shadowed light of evening fell; And, where the maple's leaf was brown,

Italia mia, bench' 'l parlar sia indarno. TO THE PRINCES OF ITALY, EXHORTING THEM TO SET HER FREE. O my own Italy! though words are vain

"What is life?" I asked a lad, As on with joyful bound, He went to join the merry troop,