Poems, Vol. IV

Happy whoever writes a book On which the world shall kindly look, And who, when many a year has flown-- The volume worn, the author gone-- Revere, admire, and still read on.

Of all the sweet visions that come unto me Of happy refreshment by land or by sea, Like oases where in life's desert I roam, Is nothing so pleasant as Holiday Home.

O winter of our discontent! Your reign was for a day; Behold! a scene of wonderment, A thousand tongues are eloquent, For spring, in bud and bloom and scent, Is on the way.

With gelid sap and frozen gum In maple trees and hackmatack, While waiting for the spring to come Of life's necessities we lack; And sip the nectar that we find In luscious frui...

And sometimes I look with pity On my neighbor's mansion tall: There are chambers full of pictures, There are marbles in the hall, Yet with all the signs of splendor That may gil...

So "all is well," though swift or slow God's will be done; and we Draw near to him, for close and low Beneath his chastening hand, the blow Will fall less heavily.

Round Bancroft height rich memories Commingle earth's affairs, Among the world's celebrities, Of him whose name it bears; The scholar-wise compatriot Who left to later men The g...