From: John Bartlett,
Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
I laugh, for hope hath happy place with me;
If my bark sinks, ít is to another sea.
A Poetís Hope.
I sing New England, as she lights her fire
In every Prairieís midst; and where the bright
Enchanting stars shine pure through Southern night,
She still is there, the guardian on the tower,
To open for the world a purer hour.
Most joyful let the Poet be;
It is through him that all men see.
The Poet of the old and new
My highway is unfeatured air,
My consorts are the sleepless stars,
And men my giant arms upbearó
My arms unstained and free from scars.
Hymn of the Earth.
A wail in the wind is all I hear;
A voice of woe for a loverís loss.
Tears in Spring.