Hangs above the western hill,
When the year comes round to June
And the leafy world is still,
Then, enraptured, you shall hear
Secrets for a poet's ear.

Mortal, mortal, come with me,
When the moon is rising large,
Through the wood or from the sea,
Or by some lone river marge.
There, entranced, you shall behold
Beauty's self, that grows not old.

Night Lyric

In the world's far edges
Faint and blue,
Where the rocky ledges
Stand in view,

Fades the rosy, tender
Evening light;
Then in starry splendor
Comes the night.

So a stormy lifetime
Comes to close,
Spirit's mortal strifetime
Finds repose.

Faith and toil and vision
Crowned at last,
Failure and derision
Overpast,--

All the daylight splendor
Far above,
Calm and sure and tender
Comes thy love.

The Heart of Night

When all the stars are sown
Across the night-blue space,
With the immense unknown,
In silence face to face.

We stand in speechless awe
While Beauty marches by,
And wonder at the Law
Which wears such majesty.

How small a thing is man
In all that world-sown vast,
That he should hope or plan
Or dream his dream could last!

O doubter of the light,
Confused by fear and wrong,
Lean on the heart of night
And let love make thee strong!

The Good that is the True
Is clothed with Beauty still.
Lo, in their tent of blue,
The stars above the hill!

Peace

The sleeping tarn is dark
Below the wooded hill.
Save for its homing sounds,
The twilit world grows still.

And I am left to muse
In grave-eyed mystery,
And watch the stars come out
As sandalled dusk goes by.

And now the light is gone,
The drowsy murmurs cease,
And through the still unknown
I wonder whence comes peace.

Then softly falls the word
Of one beyond a name,
"Peace only comes to him
Who guards his life from shame,--

"Who gives his heart to love,
And holding truth for guide,
Girds him with fearless strength,
That freedom may abide."

The Old Gray Wall

Time out of mind I have stood
Fronting the frost and the sun,
That the dream of the world might endure,
And the goodly will be done.

Did the hand of the builder guess,
As he laid me stone by stone,
A heart in the granite lurked,
Patient and fond as his own?

Lovers have leaned on me
Under the summe