And a free, unfettered will—

Ah, thus to journey, thus to fare,

With only the skies to frown,

And happy I, if the ways but lie

Away, away from the town.

Give me the path, the wild-wood path

That wanders deep in a dell,

Where silence sleeps and sunbeams fain

Would waken the slumber spell—

For there the gods find the world again,

Immortals of ancient lore,

And time is gone, and a mad-glad faun

Knows the glades of Greece once more.

In Trinity Church-Yard at Sunset

How still they sleep within the city moil

In their old church-yard with its sighing trees,

Where sometimes through the din a twilight breeze

Makes one forget the busy streets of toil;

But they have little thought of worldly spoil

Or the great gain of mortal victories,

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