’Tis men who say that through all… The woman’s love, wife’s, mother’s… And breathes the sweeter and will… For winds that tear it, and the so… So in a thousand voices has the st…

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…

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…

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…

SOFT voices of the woods, that m… The summer air a harmony, Winged whispers through the leaves… Long wind-wafts dying in a sigh, Replies of birds from brake to bra…

WHITE rose sighed in the morn, Red rose laughed in the noon, And ‘Sweetest sweetness is ended… And ‘Never heed for the thorn.’ ‘Love’s hour passes away,’

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

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…

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…

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;

Poor little diary, with its simple… its good resolves, its “Studied F… “Read Modern History,” “Trimmed… “Darned stockings,” “Tatted,” “Pr… “Went to the daily service,” “Too…

BLITHE summer blossom, born too… Wilt make my desert garden fair? Lo Winter’s hand is on the gate, His breath is in the curdling air. Still yesterweek, but yesterweek,

AH! swallows, is it so? Did loving lingering summer, whose… Tarried among late blossoms, loth… Gather the darkening cloud-wraps r… And weep herself away in last week…

I SET a lily long ago; I watched it whiten in the sun; I loved it well, I had but one. Then summer-time was done, The wind came and the rain,

“IS she sitting in the meadow Where the brook leaps to the mill, Leaning low against the poplar, Dreamily and still? Now, with joined hands, grave, now…