How drearily in College hall The Doctor stretched the hours, The air is wise, the wind thinks well, And oft at home 'mid tasks I heed, We must not halt while fiercely speed What boots it here of Thebes or Rome In forests I am still at home THE ENCHANTER In the deep heart of man a poet dwells Scent, form and color; to the flowers and shells IN A VOLUME OF GOETHE Wins the believing child with wondrous tales; And crowds a history into a glance; Spies oversea the fires of the mountain; 373 When thrushes ope their throat, 't is he that sings, And he that paints the oriole's fiery wings. WRITTEN IN A VOLUME OF GOETHE Six thankful weeks, and let it be A meter of prosperity, In my coat I bore this book, And seldom therein could I look, For I had too much to think, Heaven and earth to eat and drink. Is he hapless who can spare In his plenty things so rare ? RICHES HAVE ye seen the caterpillar Have ye seen the butterfly In braw claithing drest? The poor man crawls in web of rags PHILOSOPHER PHILOSOPHERS are lined with eyes within, very act. His mother died, the only friend he had, Some tears escaped, but his philosophy Couched like a cat sat watching close behind And throttled all his passion. Is't not like INTELLECT GRAVELY it broods apart on joy, LIMITS WHO knows this or that? Hark in the wall to the rat: What dost thou know? In the wretched little beast Is life and heart, Child and parent, Not without relation To fruitful field and sun and moon. INSCRIPTION FOR A WELL IN MEMORY OF THE MARTYRS OF THE WAR FALL, stream, from Heaven to bless; return as well; So did our sons; Heaven met them as they fell. THE EXILE (AFTER TALIESSIN) THE heavy blue chain Of the boundless main Didst thou, just man, endure. I HAVE an arrow that will find its mark, |