FAREWELL: we two shall still m… Live side by side; But never more shall heart respond… Two stranger boats can drift adown… Two branches on one stem grow gree…

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…

’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 brook leaps riotous with its l… That freshets from the mountain ra… Beats at the boulders in its hinde… And fills the valley with its triu… The strong unthirsty tarn sunk in…

DEAREST, this one day we own, Stolen from the crowd and press, Let it be sweet silence’s. We two, heart in heart, alone; Any speech were less.

OH the yellow boisterous sea, The surging, chafing, murderous se… And the wind-gusts hurtle the torn… On to the south through a shudderi… And the bare black ships scud aloo…

Spring Stornelli. THE RIVULET. OH clear smooth rivulet, creeping… With backward waves that cling aro… And is thy world beyond the dim bl…

Joy that’s half too keen, and true… Makes us tears. Oh! the sweetness of the tears! If such joy at hand appears, Snatch it, give thine all for it;

WHY did the star leave the sky, The far, pure sky? Shone she not high and hallowed an… Could she not tarry her life-time… Why must she fall and fade?

WINGED voice to tell the skies… Dear earth-born lark, sing on, sin… Sing into heaven that she may hear ;Sing what thou wilt, so she but k… Thine ecstasy of summer mirth

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…

DEAD, my beloved! This small pur… That grows upon thy grave shall ha… To ripen and to wane, to bloom and… But thou, strong doer, mightst not… But thou, oh noblest, mightst not…

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:

TOO soon so fair, fair lilies; To bloom is then to wane; The folded bud has still To-morrow at its will; Blown flowers can never blow again…

MILES and miles of here and ther… Our eager river forced its way, Bent to be it knew not where. It had no rest in delay; And for its haste it had no aim;