Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day’s departing light.
“Upon the Mountain’s Distant Head.”
Violets spring in the soft May shower;
There, in the summer breezes, wave
Crimson phlox and moccasin flower.
The Maiden’s Sorrow.
Welcome to grasp of friendly hands; to prayers
Offered where crowds in reverent worship come
Or softly breathed amid the tender cares