The Rosary of My Tears 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 ...
Death Out of the shadows of sadness, Into the sunshine of gladness, Into the light of the blest； Out of a land very dreary, Out of a world very weary,...
What Ails the World？ "What ails the world？" the poet cried； "And why does death walk everywhere？ And why do tears fall anywhere？ And sk...
A Thought There never was a valley without a faded flower, There never was a heaven without some little cloud； The face of day may flash with light in...
In Rome At last the dream of youth Stands fair and bright before me, The sunshine of the home of truth Falls tremulously o'er me. And tower, and s...
December After SicknessI nearly died, I almost touched the door That swings between forever and no more； I think I heard the awful hinges grate, Hour ...
Old Trees Old trees, old trees！ in your mystic gloom There's many a warrior laid, And many a nameless and lonely tomb Is sheltered beneath your sh...
After Seeing Pius IX I saw his face to-day； he looks a chief Who fears not human rage, nor human guile； Upon his cheeks the twilight of a grief, But i...
Sentinel Songs When falls the soldier brave, Dead at the feet of wrong, The poet sings and guards his grave With sentinels of song. Songs, march！ he g...
A Mystery His face was sad； some shadow must have hung Above his soul； its folds, now falling dark, Now almost bright； but dark or not so dark, Like c...