Day and night pass over, rounding, Star and cloud and sun, Things of drift and shadow, empty Of my dearest one. Soft as slumber was my baby,

Not to be conquered by these headl… But to stand free: to keep the min… On life’s deep meaning, nature’s a… Of loveliness, and time’s mysterio… At every thought and deed to clear…

I heard the city time-bells call Far off in hollow towers, And one by one with measured fall Count out the old dead hours; I felt the march, the silent press

Sweet summer is gone; they have la… The last sad hours that were touch… In the hush where the ghosts of th… The sleep that is sweet of her slu… Let not a sight or a sound erase

Along the narrow sandy height I watch them swiftly come and go, Or round the leafless wood, Like flurries of wind-driven snow, Revolving in perpetual flight,

Life is not all for effort: there… When fancy breaks from the exactin… And rebel though takes schoolboy’s… Rejoicing in its idle strength. ’… And only at such moments, that we…

All day between high-curded clouds… Shone down like summer on the stea… The long, bright icicles in dwindl… Dripped from the murmuring eaves t… They fell. As if the spring had n…

Blind multitudes that jar confused… At strife, earth’s children, will… From toils made hateful here, and… With ravelling self-engendered mis… And will ye never know, till sleep…

The full, clear moon uprose and sp… Her cold, pale splendor o’er the s… A light-strewn path that seemed to… Outward into eternity. Between the darkness and the gleam

Far above us where a jay Screams his matins to the day, Capped with gold and amethyst, Like a vapor from the forge Of a giant somewhere hid,

Where swallows and wheatfields are… O hamlet brown and still, O river that shineth far, By meadow, pier, and mill: O endless sunsteeped plain,

Hear me, Brother, gently met; Just a little, turn, not yet, Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget: Now the midnight draweth near. I have little more to tell;

Under the day-long sun there is li… In the working earth, And the wonderful moon shines brig… Through the soft spring night, The innocent flowers in the limitl…

Along the waste, a great way off,… Like tall slim priests of storm, s… The low long strip of dolorous red… The under west, where wet winds mo… The cornfields all are brown, and…

Comfort the sorrowful with watchfu… In silence, for the tongue cannot… Vex not his wounds with rhetoric,… Worn truths, that are but maddenin… To him whose grief outmasters all…