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SUN-WORSHIP. — SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY.
WITH A PAIR OF GLOVES LOST IN A
We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, Every blossom I bore would bend in. And I should hint sharp practice if I ward,
dared ; They'd know where the sunshine grew. For was not she beforehand sure to gain
Who made the sunshine we together
SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY. Full oft the pathway to her door I've measured by the selfsame track, As life runs on the road grows strange Yet doubt the distance more and With faces new, and near the end more,
The milestones into headstones change, 'T is so much longer coming back! | 'Neath every one a friend
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
A beggar through the world am I, 4.
Fair as a summer dream was Margaret, 27.
Far through the memory shines a happy day,
Far 'yond this narrow parapet of Time, 23.
Fit for an Abbot of Theleme, 380.
“For this true nobleness I seek in vain," 20.
Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,
From the close-shut windows gleams no spark,
Full oft the pathway to her door, 499.
God! do not let my loved one die, 15.
Godminster? Is it Fancy's play? 355.
Great soul, thou sittest with me in my room, 21.
He who first stretched his nerves of subtile
Here once my step was quickened, 367.
Hers all that Earth could promise or bestow,
Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal clear, 3.
How strange are the freaks of memory! 387.
I did not praise thee when the crowd, 101.
I do not come to weep above thy pall, 104.
I du believe in Freedom's cause, 192.
| No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut?
Voted agin him ? 184.
Not always unimpeded can I pray, 352.
Not as all other women are, 5.
O days endeared to every Muse, 488.
“O Dryad feet," 472.
0, wandering dim on the extremest edge,
Of all the myriad moods of mind, 92.
Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze, 468.
Oh, tell me less or tell me more, 466.
Once hardly in a cycle blossometh, 22.
Once on a time there was a pool, 262.
One feast, of holy days the crest, 377.
Our love is not a fading, earthly flower, 24.
Over his keys the musing organist, 107.
Praisest Law, friend? We, too, love it much
as they that love it best, 94.
Reader! Walk up at once (it will soon be too
Rippling through thy branches goes the sun-
Seat of all woes? Though Nature's firin de-
Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold, 475.
Ship, blest to bear such freight across the blue,
Shy soul and stalwart, man of patient will, 448.
Silencioso por la puerta, 467.
Sleep is Death's image, - poets tell us 80, 464.
Sometimes come pauses of calm, when the rapt
Somewhere in India, upon a time, 332.
Spirit, that rarely comest now, 381.
Still thirteen years : 't is autumn now, 366.
rows a lantern, 498.
Thanks to the artist, ever on my wat
Racon. 'T were po hard task, percuar dhe
| 'T was sung of old in hut and hall, 403.
Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair, 168.
Untremulous in the river clear, 6.
Violet ! sweet violet ! 17.
Walking alone where we walked together, 467.
We see but half the causes of our deeds, 49.
We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, 499.
What boot your houses and your lands ? 62.
What countless years and wealth of brain were
“What fairings will ye that I bring ? " 351.
What man would live coffined with brick and
What mean these banners spread, 472.
What Nature makes in any mood, 359.
What visionary tints the year puts on, 09.
What were I, Love, if I were stripped of thee,
When a deed is done for Freedom, through the
When Persia's sceptre trembled in a hand, 349.
When the down is on the chin, 473.
governs the Faithful?" 498.
Whether the idle prisoner through his grate,
While the slow clock, as they were miser's gold,
Who cometh over the hills, 421.
Who hath not been a poet? Who hath not,
Why should I seek her spell to decompose, 449.
Woe worth the hour when it is crime, 104.
Words pass as wind, but where great deeds
were done, 424.
Worn and footsore was the Prophet, 18.
Yes, faith is a goodly anchor, 367.