Class _„_ rSjiS'3 
 Book_ .^4- 
 CoipghtN" 
 
 COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Boston 
 De Wo Ife . Fi s ke & Co. 
 
LIB5'*wv •.♦ CONGRESS 
 
 Two Annies J^ereived 
 
 SEP 15 1904 
 
 ' CoD/jtsrht Entry . 
 COPY B ' 
 
 ^3 
 
 
 (opyni^Kt" 
 
 IBoj+bn |q©4. 
 
IFirst ©ay, 
 
 And when the hours of rest 
 Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, 
 Hushing its billowy breast — 
 The quiet of that moment, too, is thine; 
 It breathes of Him who keeps 
 The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. 
 
 The JHfymn cf the (Bity. 
 
ecoad j:?ay 
 
 O LIVE, that when thy summons 
 comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, 
 that moves 
 To that mysterious realm, where each 
 shall take 
 His chamber in the silent hall of death. 
 Thou g-o not, like a quarry slave at night. 
 Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave. 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 Vhanatopsis. 
 
 Thou hast my better years 
 Thou hast my earlier friends— the good— the kind. 
 
 Yielded to thee with tears 
 The venerable form— the exalted mind. 
 
 Tc the J^ait. 
 
Xhird j^aij 
 
 HERE'S a dance of leaves in that 
 aspen bower, 
 There's a titter of winds in that 
 beechen tree, 
 There's a smile on the fruit, and a 
 smile on the flower, 
 And a laug'h from the brook that runs to the sea. 
 
 The Sladness of dTature. 
 
 "Every maiden knows 
 
 That she who chides her lover, forgives him 
 ere he goes." 
 
 Patima and Raduan. 
 
 Stainless worth. 
 Such as the eternal age of virtue saw 
 Ripens, meanwhile, till time shall call it forth 
 Prom the low modest shade, to light and bless the 
 earth. 
 
 The Jlges. 
 

 Stranger if 
 
 thou hast 
 learned a 
 truth which 
 needs 
 No school of 
 long experience, 
 that the world 
 Is full of guilt and 
 niisery, and hast seen 
 
 Enough of all its 
 sorrows, crimes 
 
 and cares, 
 To tire thee of it, 
 
 enter this wild wood 
 And view the haunts of 
 Nature. 
 
 Sntrance to a ll^ocd. 
 
Fifth ■ ©ay. 
 
 UT I wish that fate had left me free 
 To wander these quiet haunts 
 
 with thee, 
 Till the eating cares of earth should 
 
 depart 
 And the peace of the scene pass into 
 
 my heart. 
 
 Sreen River 
 
 That delicate forest flower, 
 With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 
 Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
 An emanation of the indwelling* Life, 
 A visible token of the upholding Love, 
 That are the soul of this wide universe. 
 
 Forest Jfiijmn. 
 
 Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, 
 And as thy shadowy train depart. 
 
 The memory of sorrow grows 
 
 A lighter burden on the heart. 
 
 ^he l/ap&e of %ime. 
 
9 
 
 aij, 
 
 Virtue 
 cannot 
 dwell with. 
 
 slaves, 
 nor reig-n 
 O'er those 
 who cower to 
 take a 
 tyrant's yoke. 
 
 In such a bright, late quiet, 
 
 would that I 
 
 Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers 
 and brooks. 
 
 And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, 
 
 And music of kind voices ever nigh ; 
 
 And when my last sand twinkled in the glass. 
 
 Pass silently from men, as thou^< ' " '^ 
 
 doth pass. 
 
 Sonnet — October. 
 
IDevealh ^ay. 
 
 I would make Reason my 
 guide, but she 
 
 would sometimes sit 
 Patiently by the wayside, 
 
 while I traced 
 The mazes of the pleasant 
 wilderness around 
 me. 
 
 oJupiter and I9enus. 
 
 Thou bring'st the hope 
 
 of those calm skies. 
 And that soft 
 time of sunny 
 showers 
 When the wide ^ 
 
 bloom, on earth that lies. 
 
 Seems of a brighter 
 world than ours. Marc 
 
ZigKtK 9ay 
 
 O HIM who in the love of natui'e 
 holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, 
 she speaks 
 A various language; for his gayer hours 
 She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
 
 And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
 Into his darker musings, with a mild 
 
 And healing sympath^^ that steals away 
 Their sharpness ei'e he is aware. 
 
 jrhanatopsis. 
 
 Thus error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven, 
 They fade— they fly— but truth survives their flight; 
 
 E sigh not over vanished years. 
 
 But watch the years that hasten by. 
 
 li^he Lapse of Time. 
 
%nih 9ay. 
 
 Woo her when 
 with 
 rosy 
 hlush, 
 
 Summer eve 
 is sinking; 
 When, on rills 
 that 
 softly gush, 
 
 Stars are softly 
 winking; 
 .Wh.en, through 
 ^5,^ljg5.^.' boughs that 
 
 j^*^:^ knit the 
 
 bower, 
 Moonlight gleams 
 
 are stealing; 
 Woo her, till the gentle hour 
 Wake a gentler feeling. 
 
XeritK ©ay. 
 
 RANDEUR, strength, and grace 
 Are liere to speak of thee. This 
 
 mighty oak— 
 By whose immovable stem I stand 
 and seem 
 Almost annihilated— not a prince, 
 In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
 E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
 Wears tlie green coronal of leaves with which 
 Thy hand has graced liim. 
 
 Pcrcsi Hymn. 
 
 In meadows red with blossoms, 
 
 All summer long, the bee 
 Murmers and loads bis yellow thighs, 
 
 For thee, my love, and me. 
 
 ^he Hunter s Serenade. 
 
 Thy gates shall yet give way, 
 Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable Past. 
 
 'PheJPast. 
 
•'*\..i*'"''t?'S*'' 
 
 xllevealh ©ay, 
 
 The oak 
 Shall send his roots 
 abroad, and 
 pierce thy mould. 
 Yet not to thine 
 eternal 
 resting-place 
 Shalt thou retire alone— 
 nor could'st 
 
 thou wish 
 Couch more mag-nilicent. 
 Thou Shalt lie down 
 With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, 
 The powerful of the earth — 
 
 the wise, the good 
 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
 
 All in one mighty sepulchre. 
 
 T^hanatopsis. 
 
Twelfth ©ay. 
 
 HITHER, midst falling dew, 
 While glow the heavens with 
 the last steps of day. 
 Far, through their rosy depths, 
 
 dost thou pursue 
 Thy solitarj^ way ? 
 
 Vainly the fowler's eye 
 Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong. 
 As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 
 
 Thy figure floats along. 
 
 There is a Power whose care 
 Teaches thy way along that pathless coast. 
 The desert and illimitahle air 
 
 Lone wandering, but not lost. 
 
 He. who, from zone to zone 
 Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
 In the long way that I must tread alone 
 Will lead my steps aright. 
 
 ^c af Waterfcivl. 
 
XKirteealh ©ay. 
 
 Loveliest of lovely 
 thing's 
 are they, 
 On 
 
 earth, 
 that soonest 
 pass away. 
 The rose that lives 
 
 its little hour, 
 Is prized beyond 
 
 the sculptured 
 flower. 
 Even love, long- tried and 
 cherished long, 
 Becomes more tender and more 
 strong, 
 At thought of that insatiate grave 
 From which its yearnings 
 cannot save. 
 
 oBanks of the Hudson. 
 
IFoiirleeath ©ay. 
 
 ND thou dost wait and watch 
 to meet 
 My spirit sent to join the blessed, 
 And, wondering what detains 
 my feet 
 Fi'om the brig-lit land of rest, 
 Dost seem in every sound to hear 
 The rustliilg- of my footsteps near." 
 
 The indian Sirl's Lament. 
 
 The hills 
 Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales 
 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 
 The venerable woods— rivers that move 
 
 In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
 That make the meadow green, and, poured 
 
 round all, 
 
 Old ocean's grey and melancholy waste,— 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 
 Of the great tomb of man. 
 
 Thanatopsis. 
 
"FifteeatK ©ay. 
 
 E, from your station in the middle 
 skies, 
 Proclaimed the essential Goodness, 
 strong" and wise. 
 
 To the oApenninea. 
 
 And leave the vain low strife 
 That makes men mad— the tug for wealth and 
 
 power, 
 The passions and the cares that wither life, 
 
 And waste its little hour. 
 
 aAutumn Woods. 
 
 Thou art in the soft winds 
 That run along the summit of these trees 
 
 In music;— thou art in the cooler breath 
 That from the inmost darkness of the place, 
 Comes scarcely felt ;— the barky trunks, 
 the ground, 
 The fresh, moist ground are all instinct with thee. 
 
 Forest Hymn. 
 
Sipcleealh ©ay. 
 
 All that breathe 
 Will share thy destiny. 
 The gay will 
 
 laugh 
 When thou art gone, 
 the solemn brood 
 of care 
 Plod on, and each 
 one as before 
 
 will chase 
 His favorite phantom; 
 yet all these 
 
 shall leave 
 Their mirth 
 
 and their 
 employments, 
 
 and shall come, 
 And make their bed with 
 
 thee. Thanaicpsis 
 
ir)evealeealh X^ay. 
 
 KNOW, I know I should not see 
 
 The season's glorious show, 
 Nor would its brightness shine for me, 
 Nor its wild music flow ; 
 But, if, around my place of sleep, 
 The friends I love shall come to weep, 
 
 They might not haste to go. 
 Soft airs, and song, and light and bloom. 
 
 Should keep them lingering by my tomb. 
 
 olune. 
 
 Innocent child and snow-white flower! 
 Well are you paired in your opening hour. 
 
 Thus should the pure and the lovely meet. 
 Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet. 
 
 " fnnccent (Ehild and Snciv-white Flower." 
 
 Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth 
 
 In her fair page ; see, every season brings 
 New change, to her, of everlasting youth. 
 
jLigKleealK 
 9aH. 
 
 They have 
 
 not 
 perished 
 — no ! 
 gjs^gr- Kind 
 'v^ii^ words, 
 
 remembered 
 15^ > voices 
 
 once so 
 rS"?! sweet, 
 
 Smiles, 
 radiant long 
 ago, 
 And features, 
 the great soul's apparent 
 seat; 
 All shall come back, each tie 
 
 Of pure affection shall be knit again; 
 Alone shall Evil die. 
 
 And Sorrow dwell a prisoner in 
 ^ thy reign. 
 
 To thej^ast. 
 
JXiueleealK ©ay. 
 
 ROM his sweet lute flow forth. 
 Imniortal harmonies, of power 
 to still 
 All passions horn of earth, 
 And draw the ardent will, 
 Its destiny of goodness to fulfill. 
 
 The Life of the JSlessed. 
 
 Go, rock the little woodhird in its nest. 
 Curl the still waters, bright with stars and rouse 
 The wide old wood from his majestic rest, 
 
 Summoning from the innumerahle houghs 
 The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his hreast 
 Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows 
 The shutting flower and darkling waters pass. 
 And 'twixt the o'ershadowing branches 
 
 and the grass. 
 
 'Wo the Svening JU9ind. 
 
 Yet almost can her grief forget, 
 
 To think that thou dost love her yet. 
 
 The fndian Sirl's Lament. 
 
Xwealielh 2:^aij. 
 
 ,-^\ \h^ 
 
 w 
 
 ^ Then 
 -- haste 
 
 thee, Time— 
 'tis kindness all 
 - That speeds 
 
 thy winged 
 feet so fast; 
 
 Thy pleasures stay 
 not till they pall, 
 And all thy pains 
 are quickly past. 
 
 7^ he Lapse cf Time. 
 
 What heroes from the woodland 
 sprung", 
 
 When through the fresh awakened land, 
 The thrilling cry of freedom rung, 
 
 And to the work of warfare strung 
 The yeoman's iron hand! 
 
 Seventy- six. 
 
Xweali]=firsl «Bay, 
 
 'RE, in the northern gale, 
 
 The summer tresses of the trees 
 
 are gone, 
 The woods of Autumn, all around 
 
 our vale 
 Have put their glory on. 
 
 oAuiumn W^ood&> 
 
 These dim vaults, 
 These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
 
 Report not. No fantastic carvings show, 
 The hoast of our vain race to change the form 
 
 Of thy fair works. But thou art here— 
 
 thou flllest 
 The solitude 
 
 Forest Hymn. 
 
 I hunt, till day's last glimmer dies 
 
 O'er woody vale and grassy height; 
 And kind the voice and glad the eyes. 
 That welcome my return at night. 
 
 %he Hunter of the JPrairies. 
 
Xwerily=secGaA 
 
 'Tis sweet in the 
 green 
 
 Spring, 
 To gaze upon the 
 wakening fields 
 around ; 
 Birds in the thicket 
 sing, 
 Winds whisper, waters 
 prattle from 
 
 the ground ; 
 A thousand odors rise, 
 Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dies. 
 
 From the Spanish. 
 
 Go forth, into the gathering shade; go forth, 
 
 God's blessing breathed upon the 
 fainting earth ! 
 
 Tc the Svening Wind. 
 
Iwealij -third i^ay. 
 
 ^j'^^' thy abysses wide 
 
 Beauty and excellence unknown— to thee 
 
 Earth's wonder and her pride 
 Are gathered, as the waters to the sea. 
 
 To the JPa^t. 
 
 Ah, uhou art like our wayv/ard race; 
 
 When not a shade of pain or ill 
 Dims the bright smile of Nature's face, 
 
 Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still. 
 
 The LBest Wind. 
 
 The groves were God's first temples. Ere man 
 
 learned 
 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave. 
 And spread the roof above them,— ere he framed 
 
 The lofty vault, to gather, and roll back 
 The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood 
 
 Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down 
 And offered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks 
 
 And supplication. 
 
 Forest jHfymn. 
 
Xv/erity=fourlK 23'ay. 
 
 Yielding thy blessed fruits forevermore ! 
 
 ^he Life cf the Jolessed. 
 
Twealy=fifth ©ay. 
 
 OO the fair one, when around 
 Early birds are sing-ing ; 
 When, o'er all the fragrant 
 groLind. 
 Early herbs are springing: 
 When the brookside, bank and grove. 
 
 All with blossoms laden, 
 Shine with beauty, breathe of love.— 
 Woo the timid maiden. 
 
 honcf. 
 
 Where are the ^flowers, the fair young flowers, 
 
 that lately sprung and stood 
 In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous 
 
 sisterhood ? 
 Alas! they are all in their graves, the gentle 
 
 race of flowers 
 Are lying in their lowiy beds with the fair and 
 
 good of ours. 
 
 The Q)eath of the Flowers, 
 

 Tlie 
 -w ^^— .^-»-« , ^N.^.. .wind-flower 
 
 Iweaty^Sipcth ^"^^^ a , ''vkA and the 
 
 violet, 
 they perished 
 
 long" ago, 
 The brier-rose 
 and the orchis 
 died amid the 
 
 summer glow ; 
 It on the hill 
 the golden rod, 
 he aster in the wood; 
 And the yellow 
 sun-flower by the brook 
 
 in autumn beauty stood, 
 Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, 
 as falls the plague on men. 
 
 And the brightness of their smile 
 was gone, from upland, 
 
 glade and glen. 
 
 The'Q)eath of the f lowers. 
 
Iweatu^sevealK 
 
 9( 
 
 Thou, who alone 
 art fair, 
 nd whom 
 
 alone I love, 
 art far 
 away. 
 Unless 
 
 thy smile 
 be there, 
 makes 
 
 me sad to 
 see the 
 earth so 
 gay. 
 ^^ I care not 
 if the train 
 Of leaves, 
 
 and flowers, 
 and 
 zephyrs 
 
 g-o again. 
 
 From the SpanUh. 
 
Xwenly^eigKtK ©ay 
 
 KNOW where the young- May violet 
 
 grows 
 111 its lone and lowly nook. 
 
 <?An indian Stc>y. 
 
 Words cannot tell how bright and gay 
 The scenes of life before me lay. 
 
 The glorious hopes, that now to speak 
 
 Would bring the blood into my cheek, 
 
 Passed o'er me ; and I wrote, on high, 
 
 A name I deemed should never die. 
 
 ^he Rioulet. 
 
 The sight of that young crescent brings 
 Thoughts of all fair and youthful things— 
 
 The hopes of early years ; 
 And childhood's purity and grace, 
 And joys that like a rainbow chase 
 The passing shower of tears. 
 
 The dZew dllo. 
 
^i%% T«ntu=aialk 
 
 
 ©ay. 
 
 The boundless visible 
 
 smile of Him, 
 To the veil of 
 whose brow your 
 lamps 
 
 are dim." 
 
 Song of the Starts . 
 
 For prattling poets 
 say, 
 That sweetest is the lovers 
 walk, 
 And tenderest is their murmured talk 
 Beneath its gentle ray. 
 
 The dTew moon. 
 
 Eternal Love doth keep 
 In his complacent arms, the earth, 
 the air, the deep. 
 
 The Jlge%. 
 
xKirlielK ©ay. 
 
 H! you raiglit deem the spot, 
 Tlie spacious cavern of some 
 
 virgin mine, 
 Deep in the womb of earth— 
 
 wliere tlie gems grow, 
 And diamonds put forth radiant rods 
 and bud 
 With amethyst and topaz — and the place 
 Lit up, most royally with the pure beam 
 That dwells in them. ^i Winter Piece. 
 
 Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 
 
 When our mother Nature laughs around ; 
 
 When even the deep blue heavens look glad. 
 
 And gladness breathes from the blossoming 
 
 ground. The Gladness of dTature. 
 
 The forest depths, by foot unpressed. 
 Are not more sinless than thy breast; 
 The holy peace that fills the air 
 Of those calm solitudes is there. 
 
 Fairest of the Rural d^laids. 
 
still came 
 
 and lingered 
 on my 
 
 sight 
 Of flowers and 
 streams 
 the bloom and light, 
 The glory of 
 the stars and sun;— 
 And these 
 and poetry 
 are one. 
 
Thirty =firsl ©ay. 
 
 IGHT but a little part, 
 A wandering- breath of that high 
 melody, 
 Descend into my heart. 
 And change it till it be 
 Transformed and swallowed up, oh Love! in thee. 
 
 ^he Life of the J^lessed., 
 
 I would that thus, when I shall see 
 The hour of death draw near to me, 
 Hope, blossoming within my heart. 
 May loak to heaven as I depart. 
 
 ^0 the Fringed Sentian. 
 
 Thou didst kneel down, to Him who came 
 
 from heaven. 
 Evil and ignorant, and thou shalt rise 
 Holy, and pure, and wise. 
 
 dTTary d^agdalen. 
 
 Earth 
 Uplifts a general cry for guilt and wrong. 
 And Heaven is listening. Sarth 
 
SEP 15 1904 
 
UBRARY OF CONGRESS