WHAT domes and pinnacles of mist and fire

Are builded in yon spacious realms of light

All silently, as did the walls aspire Templing the ark of God by day and night!

Noiseless and swift, from darkening ridge to ridge,

Through purple air that deepens down the day,

Over the valley springs a shadowy bridge. The evening star's keen, solitary ray Makes more intense the silence, and the glad,

Unmelancholy, restful, twilight gloom So full of tenderness, that even the sad Remembrances that haunt the soul take bloom

Like that on yonder mountain.

Now the bars

Of sunset all burn black; the day doth fail,

And the skies whiten with the eternal stars. Oh, let thy spirit stay with me, sweet vale !

SHERMAN

GLORY and honor and fame and everlasting laudation

For our captains who loved not war, but fought for the life of the nation; Who knew that, in all the land, one slave meant strife, not peace;

Who fought for freedom, not glory; made war that war might cease.

Glory and honor and fame; the beating of muffled drums;

The wailing funeral dirge, as the flagwrapped coffin comes;

Fame and honor and glory; and joy for a noble soul,

For a full and splendid life, and laurelled rest at the goal.

Glory and honor and fame; the pomp that a soldier prizes;

The league-long waving line as the marching falls and rises;

Rumbling of caissons and guns; the clatter of horses' feet,

And a million awe-struck faces far down the waiting street.

But better than martial woe, and the pageant of civic sorrow;

Better than praise of to-day, or the statue we build to-morrow; Better than honor and glory, and history's iron pen,

Was the thought of duty done and the love of his fellow-men.

HAST THOU HEARD THE NIGHTINGALE?

YES, I have heard the nightingale.
As in dark woods I wandered,
And dreamed and pondered,
A voice passed by all fire
And passion and desire;