The Antiquarian (Hattie Howard Poems)
Millions have been and passed from view Benignity who never knew; No aspiration theirs, nor aim; Existence soulless as the clay From whence they ...
Hattie Howard Poems on Sense & Perception (13 Poems)
The Charity Ball (Hattie Howard Poems)
There was many a token of festal display, And reveling crowds who were never so gay, And, as it were AEolus charming ...
A Leap Year Episode (Hattie Howard Poems)
Such oranges! so fresh and sweet, So large and lovely--and so cheap! They lay in one delicious heap, And added to the sumptuous ...
The Master Of The Grange (Hattie Howard Poems)
The type of enterprise is he, Of sense and thrift and toil; Who reckons less on pedigree Than rich, productive soil; And no "blue ...
The Salt of the Earth (Hattie Howard Poems)
The salt of the earth--what a meaningful phrase From the lips of the Saviour, and one that conveys A sense of the ...
A New Suit (Hattie Howard Poems)
The artist and the loom unseen, In textures soft as _crepe de chine_ Spring weaves her royal robe of green, With grasses fringed ...
Receiving Sight (Hattie Howard Poems)
In hours of meditation fraught With mem'ries of departed days, Comes oft a tender, loving thought Of one who shared our youthful plays. In ...
Of Her Who Died (Hattie Howard Poems)
We look up to the stars tonight, Idolatrous of them, And dream that Heaven is in sight, And each a ray of purest ...
Syringas (Hattie Howard Poems)
The smallest flower beside my path, In loveliness of bloom, Some element of comfort hath To rid my heart of gloom; But these, of ...
Apple Blossoms (Hattie Howard Poems)
Of all the lovely blossoms That decorate the trees, And shower down their petals With every breath of breeze, There is nothing so sweet ...
Without A Minister (Hattie Howard Poems)
The congregation was devout, The minister inspired, Their attitude to those without By every one admired, And all things so harmonious seemed, Of no calamity ...
The Torpedo (Hattie Howard Poems)
Valiant sons of the sea, All the vast deep, your home, Holds no terror so dread As this novel and unseen foe, Lurking under ...
Is It April? (Hattie Howard Poems)
No, this is January, dear, The almanac's untrue; For roaring Boreas, 'tis clear, In sleet and snow and atmosphere, Will be the monarch of ...