Let us fly! It is long past eleve… The watch-dogs are silent; the moo… Hath all but abandoned the heaven, And midnight is sinking in swoon. Not a chirp to be heard in the thi…

The Spring-time, O the Spring-ti… Who does not know it well? When the little birds begin to bui… And the buds begin to swell. When the sun with the clouds plays…

What is the voice I hear On the wind of the Western Sea? Sentinel, listen from out Cape Cl… And say what the voice may be. ‘'Tis a proud, free people calling…

My northern blood exults to face The rapture of this rough embrace, Glowing in every vein to feel The cordial caress of steel From spear-blue air and sword-blue…

What is it haunts the summer air? A sense of something lately passed… Something pleasant, something fair… That was with us yesterday, And is no longer there.

Primroses, why do you pass away? Primroses Nay, rather, why should we longer… We are not needed, now stooping sh… Have sandalled the feet of May wi…

Yes! let His place be there! Where the lone moorland gazes on t… Not in the squalid street nor pomp… So that he again may be From contamination free,

Why, throstle, do you sing In this November haze? Singing for what? for whom? Deem you that it is Spring, Or that your lonely lays

Hush! or you’ll wake her. Softly… She slumbers in her little bed. What do I see? A coffin! Dead? Yes, dead at break of morning. No, no, it cannot, cannot be!

All the seasons of the year, I have flowers for you, dear. When the ploughland’s flecked with… And the blue-eyed scyllas blow, Gazing, through the wintry gale,

Hark! In the air, around, above, The Angelic Music soars and swell… And, in the Garden that I love, I hear the sound of Christmas Bel… From hamlet hollow, village height…

Here have I learnt the little tha… Here where in these untutored wood… The primrose, all unconscious of o… Dimpled the dainty coverlet of the… March’s first-born, and, still ave…

Now on the summit of Love’s topmo… Kiss we and part; no farther can w… And better death than we from high… Should dwindle or decline from str… We have found all, there is no mor…

The gloss is fading from your hair… The glamour from your brow; The light your eyes were wont to w… Attracts no gazer now. O’er sunny forehead, smiling lips,

The Mountains What ails you, Ocean, that nor ne… Find you a bourne to ease your bur… But throughout time inexorable are Never at rest?