Our college rhymes,—how light they… Like little ghosts of love’s young… That led our boyish hearts away From lectures and from books, to s… By flowery mead and flowing stream…
LEGEND Long ago Apollo called to Aristæu… youngest of the shepherds, Saying, “I will make you keeper o… Golden were the hives, and golden…
What hast thou done, O womanhood… Mother and daughter, sister, sweet… What hast thou done, amid this fat… To prove the pride of thine inheri… In this fair land of freedom and r…
Time is Too Slow for those who Wait, Too Swift for those who Fear, Too Long for those who Grieve, Too Short for those who Rejoice;
The melancholy gift Aurora gained From Jove, that her sad lover sho… The face of death, no goddess aske… My Keats! But when the crimson bl… Thy pillow, thou didst read the fa…
0 who will walk a mile with me Along life’s merry way? A comrade blithe and full of glee, Who dares to laugh out loud and fr… And let his frolic fancy play,
Oh, quick to feel the lightest tou… Of beauty or of truth, Rich in the thoughtfulness of age, The hopefulness of youth, The courage of the gentle heart,
I never thought again to hear The Oxford thrushes singing clear… Amid the February rain, Their sweet, indomitable strain. A wintry vapor lightly spreads
BIRTHDAY VERSES Dear Aldrich, now November’s mell… Have brought another Festa round… You can’t refuse a loving—cup of p… From friends the fleeting years ha…
Long had I loved this “Attic shap… Of marble maidens round this urn d… But when your golden voice began t… The empty urn was filled with Chi…
You dare to say with perjured lips… “We fight to make the ocean free”? You, whose black trail of butchere… Bestrews the bed of every sea Where German submarines have wrou…
Four things a man must learn to do If he would make his record true: To think without confusion clearly… To love his fellow man sincerely; To act from honest motives purely;
Count not the cost of honour to th… The tribute that a mighty nation p… To those who loved her well in for… Means more than gratitude for glor… For every noble man that she hath…
The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o’er them in the sunset hour Looms, dark and huge, St. Rombold… High in that rugged nest concealed…
How blind the toil that burrows li… In winding graveyard pathways unde… For Browning’s lineage! What if m… Poor footmen or rich merchants on… Of his forbears? Did they beget h…