Far up the lonely mountain-side
My wandering footsteps led;
The moss lay thick beneath my feet,
The pine sighed overhead.
...
A POET’S soul has sung its way to God;
Has loosed its luminous wings from earthly thongs,
...
'T is true, one half of woman's life is hope
And one half resignation. Between there lies
Anguish of broken dreams,--doubt, dire surprise,
...
Ye hills of Wayne! Ye Hills of Wayne!
In dreams I see your slopes again;
In dreams my childish feet explore,
Your daisied dells beloved of yore;
...
As by the instrument she took her place,
The expectant people, breathing sigh nor word,
Sat hushed, while o'er the waiting ivory stirred
...
The cypress swamp around me wraps its spell,
With hushing sounds in moss-hung branches there,
Like congregations rustling down to prayer,
...