• Homely phrase of our southland bright—
      Keep steady step to the flam of the drum;
    Touch to the left—eyes to the right—
      Sing with the soul tho’ the lips be dumb.
    Hard to be good when the wind ’s in the east;
      Hard to be gay when the heart is down;
    When “they that trouble you are increased,”
      When you look for a smile and see a frown....

  • From “Susan: A Poem of Degrees”
    HER Master gave the signal, with a look:
    Then, timidly as if afraid, she took
    In her rough hands the Laureate’s dainty book,
    And straight began. But when she did begin,
    Her own mute sense of poesy within
    Broke forth to hail the poet, and to greet
    His graceful fancies and the accents sweet
    In which...

  • Frigid and sweet Her parting Face —

    Frigid and fleet my Feet —

    Alien and vain whatever Clime

    Acrid whatever Fate.


    Given to me without the Suit

    Riches and Name and Realm —

    Who was She to withhold from me

    Penury and Home?

  • Her Sweet turn to leave the Homestead

    Came the Darker Way —

    Carriages — Be Sure — and Guests — too —

    But for Holiday


    'Tis more pitiful Endeavor

    Than did Loaded Sea

    O'er the Curls attempt to caper

    It had cast away —


    Never Bride had such Assembling —

    Never...

  • I could not drink it, Sweet,

    Till You had tasted first,

    Though cooler than the Water was

    The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.

  • No matter — now — Sweet —

    But when I'm Earl —

    Won't you wish you'd spoken

    To that dull Girl?


    Trivial a Word — just —

    Trivial — a Smile —

    But won't you wish you'd spared one

    When I'm Earl?


    I shan't need it — then —

    Crests — will do —

    Eagles on my...

  • Oh give it Motion — deck it sweet

    With Artery and Vein —

    Upon its fastened Lips lay words —

    Affiance it again

    To that Pink stranger we call Dust —

    Acquainted more with that

    Than with this horizontal one

    That will not lift its Hat —

  • Ourselves we do inter with sweet derision.

    The channel of the dust who once achieves

    Invalidates the balm of that religion

    That doubts as fervently as it believes.

  • Sweet hours have perished here,

    This is a timid room -

    Within it's precints hopes have played

    Now shadows in the tomb.