• The Living Temple

    NOT in the world of light alone,
    Where God has built his blazing throne,
    Nor yet alone in earth below,
    With belted seas that come and go, ... more »

  • The Lover’s Secret

    WHAT ailed young Lucius? Art had vainly tried
    To guess his ill, and found herself defied.... more »

  • The Lyre Of Anacreon

    THE minstrel of the classic lay
    Of love and wine who sings
    Still found the fingers run astray
    That touched the rebel strings.... more »

  • The Meeting Of The Dryads

    IT was not many centuries since,
    When, gathered on the moonlit green,
    Beneath the Tree of Liberty,
    A ring of weeping sprites was seen.... more »

  • The Mind’s Diet

    No life worth naming ever comes to good
    If always nourished on the selfsame food;
    The creeping mite may live so if he please,... more »

  • The Moral Bully

    YON whey-faced brother, who delights to wear
    A weedy flux of ill-conditioned hair,
    Seems of the sort that in a crowded place... more »

  • The Morning Visit

    A sick man's chamber, though it often boast
    The grateful presence of a literal toast,
    Can hardly claim, amidst its various wealth,... more »

  • The Mother’s Secret

    How sweet the sacred legend--if unblamed
    In my slight verse such holy things are named--
    Of Mary's secret hours of hidden joy,... more »

  • The Music-Grinders

    There are three ways in which men take
    One’s money from his purse,
    And very hard it is to tell... more »

  • The Mysterious Visitor

    THERE was a sound of hurrying feet,
    A tramp on echoing stairs,
    There was a rush along the aisles,--
    It was the hour of prayers.... more »

  • The Old Cruiser

    HERE 's the old cruiser, 'Twenty-nine,
    Forty times she 's crossed the line;
    Same old masts and sails and crew,... more »

  • The Old Man Dreams

    OH for one hour of youthful joy!
    Give back my twentieth spring!
    I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy,
    Than reign, a gray-beard king.... more »

  • The Old Man Of The Sea

    Do you know the Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea?
    Have you met with that dreadful old man?... more »

  • The Old Player

    THE curtain rose; in thunders long and loud
    The galleries rung; the veteran actor bowed.
    In flaming line the telltales of the stage... more »

  • The Old Tune

    THIS shred of song you bid me bring
    Is snatched from fancy's embers;
    Ah, when the lips forget to sing,... more »

  • The Only Daughter. Illustration Of A Picture

    They bid me strike the idle strings,
    As if my summer days
    Had shaken sunbeams from their wings... more »

  • The Opening Of The Piano

    IN the little southern parlor of tbe house you may have seen
    With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green,
    At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right,
    Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night!... more »

  • The Organ-Blower

    DEVOUTEST of my Sunday friends,
    The patient Organ-blower bends;
    I see his figure sink and rise,
    (Forgive me, Heaven, my wandering eyes!)... more »

  • The Parting Song

    THE noon of summer sheds its ray
    On Harvard's holy ground;
    The Matron calls, the sons obey,... more »

  • The Parting Word

    I must leave thee, lady sweet
    Months shall waste before we meet;
    Winds are fair and sails are spread,
    Anchors leave their ocean bed;... more »

  • The Peau De Chagrin Of State Street

    How beauteous is the bond
    In the manifold array
    Of its promises to pay,
    While the eight per cent it gives... more »

  • The Philosopher To His Love

    DEAREST, a look is but a ray
    Reflected in a certain way;
    A word, whatever tone it wear,
    Is but a trembling wave of air;... more »

  • The Pilgrim's Vision

    IN the hour of twilight shadows
    The Pilgrim sire looked out;
    He thought of the 'bloudy Salvages'
    That lurked all round about,... more »

  • The Ploughman

    CLEAR the brown path, to meet his coulter's gleam!
    Lo! on he comes, behind his smoking team,
    With toil's bright dew-drops on his sunburnt brow,... more »

  • The Poet’s Lot

    WHAT is a poet's love?--
    To write a girl a sonnet,
    To get a ring, or some such thing,
    And fustianize upon it.... more »