Lines addressed to the daughter of Richard Dalton Williams.     Child of the heart of a child of sweetest song!     The poet’s blood flows through thy…

Not as of one whom multitudes admire,     I believe they call him great;    They throng to hear him with a strange desire;     They, silent, come and wait,     And…

    The Poet is the loneliest man that lives;     Ah me! God makes him so —     The sea hath its ebb and flow,    He sings his songs…

    The shades of night were brooding     O’er the sea, the earth, the sky;    The passing winds were wailing     In a low, unearthly sigh;    The darkness gathered deeper,    …

           How swift they go,             Life’s many years,            With their winds of woe             And their storms of tears,    And their darkest of nights whose shadowy slopes    Are lit with…

   The waves were weary, and they went to sleep;        The winds were hushed;        The starlight flushed    The furrowed face of all the mighty deep.     The billows yester eve…

    Land of the gentle and brave!     Our love is as wide as thy woe;    It deepens beside every grave     Where the heart of a hero lies…

    Fell the snow on the festival’s vigil     And surpliced the city in white;    I wonder who wove the pure flakelets?     Ask the Virgin, or God, or…

    Furl that Banner, for ’tis weary;    Round its staff ’tis drooping dreary;        Furl it, fold it, it is best;    For there’s not a man to wave it,    And there’s…

    The sunshine of thy Father’s fame     Sleeps in the shadows of thy eyes,    And flashes sometimes when his name     Like a lost star seeks its skies….