OF BIRDS AND FLOWERS The VeeryThe Song-SparrowThe Maryland Yellow-ThroatThe Whip-Poor-WillWings of a DoveThe Hermit ThrushSea-Gulls of ManhattanThe Ruby-Crowned KingletThe Angler's ReveilleA November DaisyThe Lily of Yorrow II OF SKIES AND SEASONS If All the SkiesThe After-EchoDulcioraMatinsThe Parting and the Coming GuestWhen Tulips BloomSpring in the NorthSpring in the SouthHow Spring Comes to... more...

PRELUDEAN ANGLER'S WISH IN TOWNWhen tulips bloom in Union Square,And timid breaths of vernal airAre wandering down the dusty town,Like children lost in Vanity Fair; When every long, unlovely rowOf westward houses stands aglowAnd leads the eyes toward sunset skies,Beyond the hills where green trees grow; Then weary is the street parade,And weary books, and weary trade:I'm only wishing to go... more...

JOY AND POWER St. John viii. 17: If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them. I ask you to think for a little while about the religion of Christ in its relation to happiness. This is only one point in the circle of truth at the centre of which Jesus stands. But it is an important point because it marks one of the lines of power which radiate from Him. To look at it clearly and steadily is not... more...

THE BLUE FLOWER The parents were abed and sleeping. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and lazily, as if it had time to spare. Outside the rattling windows there was a restless, whispering wind. The room grew light, and dark, and wondrous light again, as the moon played hide-and-seek through the clouds. The boy, wide-awake and quiet in his bed, was thinking of the Stranger and his stories. "It was... more...

There was an air of calm and reserved opulence about the Weightman mansion that spoke not of money squandered, but of wealth prudently applied. Standing on a corner of the Avenue no longer fashionable for residence, it looked upon the swelling tide of business with an expression of complacency and half-disdain. The house was not beautiful. There was nothing in its straight front of chocolate-colored... more...

A REMEMBERED DREAM This is the story of a dream that came to me some five-and-twenty years ago. It is as vivid in memory as anything that I have ever seen in the outward world, as distinct as any experience through which I have ever passed. Not all dreams are thus remembered. But some are. In the records of the mind, where the inner chronicle of life is written, they are intensely clear and veridical.... more...

ACT I SCENE I Night, in the garden of NAAMAN at Damascus. At the left, on a slightly raised terrace, the palace, with softly gleaming lights and music coming from the open latticed windows. The garden is full of oleanders, roses, pomegranates, abundance of crimson flowers; the air is heavy with their fragrance: a fountain at the right is plashing gently: behind it is an arbour covered with vines. Near... more...

THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play  Around the shore of silence, as a wave  Retreating circles down the sand!  One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,  Have lingered in the crescent bay,  Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day      And leave it still as death.        But... more...

Hard is the task of the man who at this late day attempts to say anything new about Washington. But perhaps it may be possible to unsay some of the things which have been said, and which, though they were at one time new, have never at any time been strictly true. The character of Washington, emerging splendid from the dust and tumult of those great conflicts in which he played the leading part, has... more...

eace is one of the great words of the Holy Scriptures. It is woven through the Old Testament and the New like a golden thread. It inheres and abides in the character of God,—       "The central peace subsisting at the heart      Of endless agitation." It is the deepest and most universal desire of man, whose prayer in all ages has been, "Grant us Thy Peace, O Lord." It is... more...