A Whittier Alphabet.
A cottage hidden in the wood,
Red through its seams a light is glowing,
On rock and bough and tree-trunk rude
A narrow luster throwing.
Mogg Megone.
But welcome, be it old or new,
The gift which makes the day more bright,
And paints upon the ground of cold
And darkness warmth and light.
Flowers in Winter.
Cheerily then, my little man,
Live and laugh as boyhood can!
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!
The Barefoot Boy.
Down on my native hills of June
And home’s green quiet, hiding all,
Fell sudden darkness like the fall
Of midnight upon noon!
The Rendition.
Early hath the spoiler found thee,
Brother of our love,
Autumn’s faded earth around thee,
And its storms above!
On the Death of S. O. Torrey.
Father, to Thy suffering poor
Strength and grace and faith impart,
And with Thy own love restore
Comfort to the broken heart.
The Familists’ Hymn.
God’s stars and silence taught thee
As His angels only can,
That the one sole sacred thing beneath
The cope of heaven is Man.
The Branded Hand.
How hushed the hiss of party hate,
The clamor of the throng!
How old, harsh voices of debate
Flow into rhythmic song!
My Birthday.
I walk, with noiseless feet, the round
Of uneventful years;
Still o’er and o’er I sow the spring
And reap the autumn ears.
My Playmate.
Just then I felt the deacon’s hand
In wrath my coat-tail seize on;
I heard the priest cry, “Infidel!”
The lawyer mutter, “Treason!”
A Sabbath Scene.
Know we not our dead are looking
Downward with a sad surprise,
All our strife of words rebuking
With their mild and loving eyes?
A Visit to Washington.
Lift again the stately emblem
On the Bay State’s rusted shield;
Give to Northern winds the Pine Tree
On our banner’s tattered field.
The Pine Tree.
More than clouds of purple trail
In the gold of setting day;
More than gleams of wing or sail
Beckon from the sea-mist gray.
The Vanishers.
No perfect whole can our nature make,
Here or there the circle will break;
The orb of life as it takes the light
On one side, leaves the other in night.
The Preacher.
O friends whose hearts still keep their prime,
Whose bright example warms and cheers,
Ye teach us how to smile at Time,
And set to music all his years.
The Laurels.
Proffering the riddles of the dread unknown
Like the calm Sphinxes, with their eyes of stone
Questioning the centuries from their veils of sand.
Trust.
Quiet and calm, without a fear
Of danger darkly lurking near,
The weary laborer left his plow,
The milkmaid caroled by her cow.
Pentucket.
Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,
By dawn or sunset shone across,
When the ebb of the sea has left them free
To dry their fringes of gold-green moss.
The Wreck of Rivermouth.
So shall the Northern Pioneer go joyful on his way
To wed Penobscot’s waters to San Francisco’s bay.
The Crisis.
Thank God that I have lived to see the time
When the great truth begins at last to find
An utterance from the deep heart of mankind,
Earnest and clear, that all Revenge is Crime!
Abolition of the Gallows.
Unchanged by our changes of spirit and frame
Past, now, and henceforward the Lord is the same;
Though we sink in the darkness, His arms break our fall,
And in death as in life He is Father of all!
The Quaker Alumni.
Vain pride of star-lent genius!—vain
Quick fancy and creative brain,
Unblest by prayerful sacrifice,
Absurdly great or weakly wise!
The Chapel of the Hermits.
Wherever Freedom shivered a chain God speed, quoth I;
To Error amidst her shouting train I gave the lie.
My Soul and I.
Ximena, speak and tell us
Who has lost, and who has won?
Nearer came the storm and nearer,
Rolling fast and frightful on.
The Angels of Buena Vista.
Yon mountain’s side is black with night,
While, broad-orbed, o’er its gleaming crown,
The moon, slow rounding into sight,
On the hushed, inland sea looks down.
Summer by the Lakeside.
Zephyr-like o’er all things going
When the breath divine is flowing,
All my yearnings to be free
Are as echoes answering Thee.
Hymn from the French.