LOVE is dying. Why then, let it… Trample it down, that it die more… What is a rose that has lost its b… What is a fruit with its freshness… And where is the worth of the twil…

DAY is dead, and let us sleep, Sleep a while or sleep for aye, ’Twere the best if we unknew While to-morrow dawned and grew; It may bring us time to weep:

’TWAS yesterday; ’twas long ago: And for this flaunting grimy stree… And for this crowding to and fro, And thud and roar of wheels and fe… Were elm-trees and the linnet’s tr…

The thrush that, yet alone, pipes… Knows she will come in time to bui… Knows she’ll be she his tiny soul… ’Tis love-time at the hawthorn blo… And the new flower-cups bare their…

Wild wintry wind, storm through th… Dash the black clouds against the… Hiss through the billows seething… Fling the rock-surf in spray on hi… Hurl the high seas on harbour bars…

A YOUNG fair girl among her flo… And, as to blossoms born in May, Her morrows still brought sunnier… Than made up sunny yesterday. She did but wait: ‘Hope is so swe…

Oh the dear summer evening! How t… is mellow with the delicate breath… and wafts of hay scent from the su… how the glad song of life comes ev… from thousand harmless voices, fro…

NOT by her grave: thither I bid… Fresh garlands of the flowers that… And lay them by the headstone, for… My token and remembrance with the… But here, where in the brightening…

Seeds with wings, between earth an… Fluttering, flying; Seeds of a lily with blood-red cor… Breathing of myrrh and of giroflor… Where winds drop them there must t…

I DID not think to love her. As… We pluck a hedge-rose blushing in… Fresh, and at hand; and not the le… That where rich garden blossoms ta… With eddying sweets and wear a tho…

YOUNG May sat fainting and chil… And neither could live nor die; She looked and hated the sky, Yet knew not what was her ill. Ah well-a-day!

ONCE a sea-nymph loved a boy: He and she they loved so well. ‘Oh the foamy billow’s joy! Oh the rippling in the sun! Oh the round waves, one by one, S…

‘OH voice of summer winds among t… What soft news art thou bringing t… Dost thou come whispering of hushe… Languid in sunlight, while the dro… Couch placidly at rest, and from t…

Young laughters, and my music! Ay… The voice can reach no blending mi… ’Tis the bird’s trill because the… And spring means trilling on a blo… ’Tis the spring joy that has no wh…

A week ago; only a little week: it seems so much much longer, thou… is every morning still my yesterda… as all my life 'twill be my yester… for all my life is morrow to my lo…