Judith Moore; or, Fashioning a Pipe

"Ho, ye who seek saving, Go no further. Come hither, for have we not found it? Here is the House of Fulfilment of Craving; Here is the Cup with the roses around it, The world's...

"Now, if this earthly love has power to make Men's being mortal, immortal; to shake Ambitions from their memories, and brim Their measure of content: what merest whim Seems all...

"If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows that thou wouldst forget; If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the...

Andrew was eager to see Miss Moore again,--although he felt a masculine irritation against her for taking umbrage at well-meant and thoroughly sensible advice. Perhaps at the bo...

Before the Morris house there stretched a space of unkempt grass, broken by three or four irregular flower beds, upon which the grass encroached, from which the flowers sometime...

Judith Moore, the operatic singer, was not an ailing woman usually. In fact, she had very sweet and well-balanced health, but in her make-up the mental and physical balanced eac...

Next day the village was stirred to its depths when Hiram Green passed through the streets, bringing from his pasture his white horse, striped with purple paint, or dye, until i...

He was clad in the traditional blue jeans of the countryman, and wore neither coat nor vest; a leathern belt was drawn about his middle. His shirt, open a bit at the throat, and...

She was lauded to the skies. An ocean of praise was poured in libations before her; its ripples spread across the Atlantic, to break in an ominous wave at Patti's feet, and Patt...

"Say where In upper air Dost hope to find fulfilment of thy dream? On what far peak seest thou a morning gleam? Why shall the stars still blind thee unaware? Why needst thou mou...

Judith Moore did not die. She had fallen asleep that day with her fingers trembling about Andrew's sunburnt hair. He held her tenderly till a deeper sleep weighted down those cl...