Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,When blossoms and bird-song are rife;Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,That gave me the roses of life, of life,That gave me the roses of life. Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,When flutters my heart like a dove;One came […]

Why was it that the thunder voice of FateShould call thee, studious, from the classic groves,Where calm-eyed Pallas with still footstep roves,And charge thee seek the turmoil of the state?What bade thee hear the voice and rise elate,Leave home and kindred and thy spicy loaves,To lead th’ unlettered and despised drovesTo manhood’s home and thunder […]

You ask why I am sad to-day,I have no cares, no griefs, you say?Ah, yes, ‘t is true, I have no grief–But–is there not the falling leaf? The bare tree there is mourning leftWith all of autumn’s gray bereft;It is not what has happened me,Think of the bare, dismantled tree. The birds go South along […]

It may be misery not to sing at allAnd to go silent through the brimming day.It may be sorrow never to be loved,But deeper griefs than these beset the way. To have come near to sing the perfect songAnd only by a half-tone lost the key,There is the potent sorrow, there the grief,The pale, sad […]

De way t’ings come, hit seems to me,Is des’ one monst’ous mystery;De way hit seem to strike a man,Dey ain’t no sense, dey ain’t no plan;Ef trouble sta’ts a pilin’ down,It ain’t no use to rage er frown,It ain’t no use to strive er pray,Hit’s mortal boun’ to come dat way. Now, ef you ‘s […]

In the tents of AkbarAre dole and grief to-day,For the flower of all the IndiesHas gone the silent way. In the tents of AkbarAre emptiness and gloom,And where the dancers gather,The silence of the tomb. Across the yellow desert,Across the burning sands,Old Akbar wanders madly,And wrings his fevered hands. And ever makes his moaningTo the […]

All hot and grimy from the road,Dust gray from arduous years,I sat me down and eased my loadBeside the Fount of Tears. The waters sparkled to my eye,Calm, crystal-like, and cool,And breathing there a restful sigh,I bent me to the pool. When, lo! a voice cried: “Pilgrim, rise,Harsh tho’ the sentence be,And on to other […]

This is to-day, a golden summer’s dayAnd yet–and yetMy vengeful soul will not forgetThe past, forever now forgot, you say. From that half height where I had sadly climbed,I stretched my hand,I lone in all that land,Down there, where, helpless, you were limed. Our fingers clasped, and dragging me a pace,You struggled up.It is a […]

Oh, who would be sad tho’ the sky be a-graying,And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;For softly and merrily now there come playing,The little white birds thro’ the winter-kissed air. The squirrel’s enjoying the rest of the thrifty,He munches his store in the old hollow tree;Tho’ cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are […]

Fu’ de peace o’ my eachin’ heels, set down;Don’ fiddle dat chune no mo’.Don’ you see how dat melody stuhs me upAn’ baigs me to tek to de flo’?You knows I ‘s a Christian, good an’ strong;I wusship f’om June to June;My pra’ahs dey ah loud an’ my hymns ah long:I baig you don’ fiddle […]

The sand-man he’s a jolly old fellow,His face is kind and his voice is mellow,But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead,And then you got to go off to bed;I don’t think I like the sand-man. But I’ve been playing this livelong day;It does make a fellow so tired to play!Oh, my, I’m a-yawning […]

‘Tis fine to playIn the fragrant hay,And romp on the golden load;To ride old JackTo the barn and back,Or tramp by a shady road.To pause and drink,At a mossy brink;Ah, that is the best of joy,And so I sayOn a summer’s day,What’s so fine as being a boy?Ha, Ha! With line and hookBy a babbling […]

I know a manWith face of tan,But who is ever kind;Whom girls and boysLeaves games and toysEach eventide to find. When day grows dim,They watch for him,He comes to place his claim;He wears the crownOf Dreaming-town;The sand-man is his name. When sparkling eyesTroop sleepywiseAnd busy lips grow dumb;When little headsNod toward the beds,We know the […]

Night, dim night, and it rains, my love, it rains,(Art thou dreaming of me, I wonder)The trees are sad, and the wind complains,Outside the rolling of the thunder,And the beat against the panes. Heart, my heart, thou art mournful in the rain,(Are thy redolent lips a-quiver?)My soul seeks thine, doth it seek in vain?My love […]

I Love is the light of the world, my dear,Heigho, but the world is gloomy;The light has failed and the lamp down hurled,Leaves only darkness to me. Love is the light of the world, my dear,Ah me, but the world is dreary;The night is down, and my curtain furledBut I cannot sleep, though weary. Love […]

A lilt and a swing,And a ditty to sing,Or ever the night grow old;The wine is within,And I ‘m sure ‘t were a sinFor a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear,For a soldier to choose to be cold. We ‘re right for a spell,But the fever is–well,No thing to be braved, at least;So […]

Because you love me I have much achieved,Had you despised me then I must have failed,But since I knew you trusted and believed,I could not disappoint you and so prevailed.

De win’ is blowin’ wahmah,An hit’s blowin’ f’om de bay;Dey’s a so’t o’ mist a-risin’All erlong de meddah way;Dey ain’t a hint o’ frostin’On de groun’ ner in de sky,An’ dey ain’t no use in hopin’Dat de snow’ll ‘mence to fly.It’s goin’ to be a green Christmas,An’ sad de day fu’ me.I wish dis was […]

Good hunting!–aye, good hunting,Wherever the forests call;But ever a heart beats hot with fear,And what of the birds that fall? Good hunting!–aye, good hunting,Wherever the north winds blow;But what of the stag that calls for his mate?And what of the wounded doe? Good hunting!–aye, good hunting;And ah! we are bold and strong;But our triumph call […]

Tell your love where the roses blow,And the hearts of the lilies quiver,Not in the city’s gleam and glow,But down by a half-sunned river.Not in the crowded ball-room’s glare,That would be fatal, Marie, Marie,How can she answer you then and there?So come then and stroll with me, my dear,Down where the birds call, Marie, Marie.