Too soon he heard of fair Ianthe's fame,
'Twas each enamour'd Shepherd's fav'rite theme;
Return'd the rising, and the setting sun,
The Shepherd's fav'rite theme was never done.
They prais'd her wit, her worth, her shape, her air!
And even interior beauties own'd her fair.

Lincoln, 1809--February 12, 1909

© Madison Julius Cawein

Yea, this is he, whose name is synonym

Of all that's noble, though but lowly born;

To A Robin In November

© William Wilfred Campbell

Sweet, sweet, throwing thy lack of fear
Back to the heart of God, till heaven feels
The throbbing of earths music through and through.

To Morfydd

© Lionel Pigot Johnson

A VOICE on the winds,

A voice by the waters,

Subjected Earth

© Robinson Jeffers

Walking in the flat Oxfordshire fields

Where the eye can find no rock to rest on but little flints

Bridegroom Dick

© Herman Melville

All this, old lassie, you have heard before,
But you listen again for the sake e'en o' me;
No babble stales o' the good times o' yore
To Joan, if Darby the babbler be.

Joy

© Edgar Albert Guest

I never knew the joy of getting home,

I never knew how fast a heart could beat;

The Lord of the Isles: Canto I.

© Sir Walter Scott

Here pause we, gentles, for a space;
And, if our tale hath won your grace,
Grant us brief patience, and again
We will renew the minstrel strain.

Afterwards

SHE opened her moist crimson lips to sing;

And from her throat that is so white and full

Vestigia Quinque Retrorsum

This is our golden year,--its golden day;
Its bridal memories soon must pass away;
Soon shall its dying music cease to ring,
And every year must loose some silver string,
Till the last trembling chords no longer thrill,--
Hands all at rest and hearts forever still.