October

October 1271 October is a runnot muid, Her checks are dusky red In georgeous robos she is arrayed! And whore her brown feet troud Through wood, on plain or wulien wold The pathway turns to burnished gold Her gown in 'broidered o'er with…

A Voice in The Night.

A Voice in The Night. 128.1 The day had been so fraught with troublous care, My soul had been so cankered by the sting Of malice's sharp tooth, that suffering And wounded sore, even the sunset fair Seemed to my troubled eyes but as the…

To Edwin Markham

To Edwin Markham. 233.5 Flash the heart's gloom aflame with Freedom's fire Thrill the chained frame of labor with desire For sweet, sweet liberty. Lift downcast eyes toward the morning light, Rouse the slave mind to daring dreams of right,…