Two little children played among the flowers,    Their mothers were of kin, tho’ far apart;    The children’s ages were the very same    E’en to an hour — and…

   Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,         Flashed the sword of Lee!    Far in the front of the deadly fight,    High o’er the brave in the cause…

   Flower! Flower, why repine?     God knows each creature’s place;    He hides within me when I shine,     And your leaves hide His face.     And you are near…

    Nature is but the outward vestibule    Which God has placed before an unseen shrine,    The Visible is but a fair, bright vale    That winds around the great Invisible;    The…

    Some reckon their age by years,     Some measure their life by art;    But some tell their days by the flow of their tears,     And their lives…

    My brow is bent beneath a heavy rod!     My face is wan and white with many woes!    But I will lift my poor chained hands to…

    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,    …