Arthur Weir

Sleep, dearest, sleep beside the murmuring sea;
Sleep, dearest, sleep, and bright dreams compass thee.
...

You love the sun and the languid breeze
That gently kisses the rosebud's lips,
And delight to see
How the dainty bee,
...

He sits amid the ceaseless ebb and flow
Of human life, in multitudes alone,
And listens to their ceaseless monotone.
...

The daughter of a hundred earls,
No jewels has with mine to mate,
Though she may wear in flawless pearls
The ransom of a mighty state.
...

There is a spot, far from the world's uproar,
Amid great mountains,
Where softly sleeps a lake, to whose still shore
Steal silvery fountains,
...

Hilloo, hilloo, hilloo, hilloo!
Gather, gather, ye men in white;
The winds blow keenly, the moon is bright,
...

In Egypt Rhodope was born,
And lived afar from king and court;
No jewels did the maid adorn;
She crowned herself with flowers in sport.
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Memory gleams like a gem at night
Through the gloom of to-day for me,
Bringing dreams of a summer bright
...

Sweet is the maiden's kiss that tells
The secret of her heart;
Holy the wife's--yet in them dwells
Of earthliness a part;
...

'What do you gather?' the maiden said,
Shaking her sunlit curls at me--
'See, these flowers I plucked are dead,
Ah! misery.'
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'Silent I have stood and borne it, hoping still from year to year
That the pleading voice of justice you would some day wake to hear.
...

I

_Sailor William is dead. And now
Toll the great bells disconsolate.
...

He had been with the Indians all the day,
But sat with us at eve,
Chatting and laughing in his genial way,
Till came the hour to leave;
...

Merry Carlo, who runn'st at my heels
Through the dense-crowded streets of the city,
In and out among hurrying wheels,
...

Alone I pace the path we walked last year.
Dost thou remember it? Then everywhere
The wheat-fields shimmered in the summer glare,
...

Ma Chere’
Since the morning we parted
On the slippery docks of Rochelle,
I have wandered, well nigh broken-hearted,
...

When Champlain with his faithful band
Came o'er the stormy wave
To dwell within this lonely land,
Their hearts were blithe as brave;
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You named it better than you knew
Who called yon little town Lachine,
Though through the lapse of years between
...

Life grows not more nor less; it is but force
And only changes;
Expended here, it takes another course,
And ever ranges
...

The sun was swimming in the purple tide,
His golden locks far floating on the sea,
When thou and I stole beachward, side by side,
...