'Neath skies that winter never knew
The air was full of light and balm,
And warm and soft the Gulf wind blew
...
I CALL the old time back: I bring my lay
in tender memory of the summer day
When, where our native river lapsed away,
...
WELCOME home again, brave seaman! with thy thoughtful brow and gray,
And the old heroic spirit of our earlier, better day;
...
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE'S Letters from Italy.
THE tall, sallow guardsmen their horsetails have spread,
Flaming out in their violet, yellow, and red;
...
AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE.
Among their graven shapes to whom
Thy civic wreaths belong,
...
Between the gates of birth and death
An old and saintly pilgrim passed,
With look of one who witnesseth
The long-sought goal at last.
...
IN the solemn days of old,
Two men met in Boston town,
One a tradesman frank and bold,
One a preacher of renown.
...
I.
'And where now, Bayard, will thy footsteps tend?'
My sister asked our guest one winter's day.
Smiling he answered in the Friends' sweet way
...
.
GIFT from the cold and silent Past!
...
God's love and peace be with thee, where
Soe'er this soft autumnal air
Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair.
...