A WINTER DAY. The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames,Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air,Stretches his neck and claps his heavy wings,Gives three hoarse crows, and glad his talk is done;Low, chuckling, turns himself upon the roost,Then nestles down again amongst his mates.The lab'ring hind, who on his bed of straw,Beneath his home-made coverings, coarse, but... more...

ROB ROY's GRAVE. The History of Rob Roy is sufficiently known; his Grave is near the head of Loch Ketterine, in one of those small Pin-fold-like Burial-grounds, of neglected and desolate appearance, which the Traveller meets with in the Highlands of Scotland.   A famous Man is Robin Hood,  The English Ballad-singer's joy!  And Scotland has a Thief as good,  An Outlaw of as daring... more...

CHAPTER I. WHAT'S IN HEREDITY Honora Leffingwell is the original name of our heroine. She was born in the last quarter of the Nineteenth Century, at Nice, in France, and she spent the early years of her life in St. Louis, a somewhat conservative old city on the banks of the Mississippi River. Her father was Randolph Leffingwell, and he died in the early flower of his manhood, while filling with a... more...

INTRODUCTION. A Treatise on the Being and Perfections of God, as the Creator and Governor of the world, can scarcely be adapted to the exigencies of modern society, unless it be framed with express reference to the existing forms of unbelief, and the prevailing tendencies both of philosophical thought and of popular opinion. It is quite possible, indeed, to construct a scheme of evidence on this... more...

TO THE DAISY.   In youth from rock to rock I went  From hill to hill, in discontent  Of pleasure high and turbulent,          Most pleas'd when most uneasy;  But now my own delights I make,  My thirst at every rill can slake,  And gladly Nature's love partake          Of thee, sweet Daisy!   When soothed a while by milder airs,  Thee Winter in the garland... more...

GOOD-BYE Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home:Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine.Long through thy weary crowds I roam;A river-ark on the ocean brine,Long I've been tossed like the driven foam:But now, proud world! I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face;To Grandeur with his wise grimace;To upstart Wealth's averted eye;To supple Office, low and high;To... more...

CHAPTER I WHAT'S IN HEREDITY Honora Leffingwell is the original name of our heroine. She was born in the last quarter of the Nineteenth Century, at Nice, in France, and she spent the early years of her life in St. Louis, a somewhat conservative old city on the banks of the Mississippi River. Her father was Randolph Leffingwell, and he died in the early flower of his manhood, while filling with a... more...

BOSTON SICUT PATRIBUS, SIT DEUS NOBIS RALPH WALDO EMERSON [sidenote: Dec. 16, 1773] This poem was read in Faneuil Hall, on the Centennial Anniversary of the "Boston Tea-Party," at which a band of men disguised as Indians had quietly emptied into the sea the taxed tea-chests of three British ships.   The rocky nook with hill-tops three    Looked eastward from the farms,  And twice each... more...

THE OLYMPIAN ORDER Lying back in the chair of the Pullman and gazing over the wide Hudson shining in the afternoon sun, Honora's imagination ran riot until the seeming possibilities of life became infinite. At every click of the rails she was drawing nearer to that great world of which she had dreamed, a world of country houses inhabited by an Olympian order. To be sure, Susan, who sat reading in... more...

In one of Rossetti's invaluable notes on poetry, he tells us that to him "the leading point about Coleridge's work is its human love." We may remember Coleridge's own words:   "To be beloved is all I need,  And whom I love, I love indeed." Yet love, though it is the word which he uses of himself, is not really what he himself meant when using it, but rather an... more...