Of forthcoming weather no prophet have they,
For the ground hog is there to be seen every day.
...
Listen! 'tis the Rain
Coming home again;
Not as when he went away,
Silent, but in tears to say
...
A ladder from the Land of Light,
I rest upon the sod,
Whence dewy angels of the Night
Climb back again to God.
...
Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern,
And spread out your palms again,
And say, 'Tho' the sun
Hath my vesture spun,
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Who first beneath the mistletoe
On Christmas night is found,
Must pay a forfeiture, we know,
To them that stand around.
...
To strip you of your foliage
My spirit sorely grieves;
Nor will I in the work engage
Unless you grant your leaves.
...
Strong as the sea, and silent as the grave,
It ebbs and flows unseen;
Flooding the earth-a fragrant tidal wave-
With mist of deepening green.
...
Sighed the languid Moon to the Morning Star:
'O little maid, how late you are!'
'I couldn't rise from my couch,' quoth she
'While the Man-in-the-M ...
...
In vain to seal the sepulchre
The Pilate Death commands;
For, lo, again his prisoner
Within the garden stands.
...
Bishop Potter, finding hotter
Passions than there used to be,
To the Gospel bids defiance,
And appeals to modern science
...