A Funeral in the Village, by Isaac McLellan
Hark! To the village bell!
The red, Autumnal woodlands round,
And the old hills, repeat the ...
Poems by Isaac McLellan
Gayeties of Night in the City, by Isaac McLellan
It is eight o'clock of night, and the pallid frosty light
Of the winter moon streams down on ea...
Giraffe-Hunting in Central Africa, by Isaac McLellan
In far 'Mid-Africa, where woods
Illimitable weave their gloom,
Where the palmyra lifts its cr...
The Glory of Autumn, by Isaac McLellan
The generous autumn days are come,
The merriest of the year,
With dewy morns and rosy eves,
...