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SONGS OF THE SOUL

ON COMING TO THE NEW-OLD LAND-AMERICA

Sleeping memoriesOf friends once more to beDid greet me-sailing o'er the sea,-  Sensing my comingThe Pilgrim Land to adore.The distant sleeping shoreLay in the twinkling night,Dim through the vanished light,  The breeze wafted strong   Strange thoughts  That my brain did throng,   Hopes sweet and richly wrought.
The raven-winged gloom did perchOn the portals of my mind and searchMy soul, my strength to awe;  Yet crowds with joy oh, then, I saw

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