Twisted boughs shall tremble oer us, hollow woods shall moan before us,
And the torrents like a chorus down the gorges dark shall sing;
And the vines shall shake and shiver, and the startled grasses quiver,
Like the reeds beside a river in the gusty days of Spring;
While we forward haste delighted, through a region seldom lighted
Souls impatient, hearts excited like a wind upon the wing!

Deprecating A Gift

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

(Of Something Made By The Giver)

Thoughts Suggested By A College Examination

© George Gordon Byron

High in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
MAGNUS his ample front sublime up rears:
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god.
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.

The Hasty Pudding

© Joel Barlow

A POEM IN THREE CANTOS

Ulmarra

© Henry Kendall

Alone alone!

With a heart like a stone,

That Night It Rained

© Victor Marie Hugo

That night it rained, the tide was high,

A heavy, grey fog covered all the coast,

Pharsalia - Book III: Massilia

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Phoenicians first (if story be believed)
Dared to record in characters; for yet
Papyrus was not fashioned, and the priests
Of Memphis, carving symbols upon walls
Of mystic sense (in shape of beast or fowl)
Preserved the secrets of their magic art.

The Message

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I have not the gift of vision,

I have not the psychic ear,

The Deer-Stone

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

And in a hollowed stone it shed
Its milk so warm and white,
And then, all timid, stood apart
To watch the babe's delight.

The Death Of Aliatar

FROM THE SPANISH.

Worship

The Pagan's myths through marble lips are spoken,
And ghosts of old Beliefs still flit and moan
Round fane and altar overthrown and broken,
O'er tree-grown barrow and gray ring of stone.

Chicago Castanets

© George Ade

Through all the moving thoroughfares

And in the contending marts of trade;

White CanoeA Legend Of Niagara Falls

A CANTATA.
MINAHITA, Indian Maiden.
OREIKA, Her Friend.
TOLONGA, Minahitas Father.
DOLBREKA, Indian Chief.

The Bard

© Thomas Gray

I. 1.

"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!

Oh Albania, Poor Albania

© Pashko Vasa

Gather round, maidens, gather round, women
Who with your fair eyes know what weeping is,
Come, let us lament poor Albania,
Who is without honour and reputation,
She has become a widow, a woman with no husband,
She is like a mother who has never had a son!