Farewell has long been said; I ha… I never name thee even. But how shall I learn virtues and… For thou art so near Heaven That Heavenward meditations pause…

New delights to our desire The singers of the past can yield. I lift mine eyes to hill and field… And see in them your yet dumb lyre… poets unborn and unrevealed.

The leaves are many under my feet, And drift one way. Their scent of death is weary and… A flight of them is in the grey Where sky and forest meet.

O Spring, I know thee! Seek for… In the young children’s eyes. But I have learnt the years, and… Leaf-folded violet. Mine ear, awake to silence, can fo…

Your own fair youth, you care so l… Smiling toward Heaven, you would… Of time and change upon your hapie… I keep your golden hour, and will… If ever, in time to come, you woul…

We build with strength and deep to… That shall be shattered thus and t… And fair and great are court and h… But how fair—this is not for us, Who know the lack that lurks in al…

A poet of one mood in all my lays, Ranging all life to sing one only… Like a west wind across the world… Sweeping my harp of floods mine ow… The countries change, but not the…

My heart shall be thy garden. Com… Into thy garden; thine be happy ho… Among my fairest thoughts, my tall… From root to crowning petal, thine… Thine is the place from where the…

There’s a feast undated, yet Both our true lives hold it fast,— Even the day when we first met. What a great day came and passed, —Unknown then, but known at last.

On London fell a clearer light; Caressing pencils of the sun Defined the distances, the white Houses transfigured one by one, The 'long, unlovely street’ impear…

Farewell to one now silenced quite… Sent out of hearing, out of sight,… My friend of friends, whom I shal… He is not banished, though, for th… Nor he, nor sadness, nor delight.

I come from nothing; but from wher… Come the undying thoughts I bear? Down, through the long links of de… From the past poets of the earth, My immortality is there.

She walks—the lady of my delight— A shepherdess of sheep. Her flocks are thoughts. She keep… She keeps them from the steep; She feeds them on the fragrant hei…

Home, home from the horizon far an… Hither the soft wings sweep; Flocks of the memories of the day… The dovecote doors of sleep. Oh which are they that come throug…

I must not think of thee; and, tir… I shun the love that lurks in all… The love of thee—and in the blue h… And in the dearest passage of a so… Oh, just beyond the sweetest thoug…