VIATOR loquitur ‘Royal in purple and gold and red, Free, and unknowing sorrow, Blithely and lithely to and fro, With flowers for thy choosing stil…

I HAVE not yet I could have lov… Nor know I wherefore, thou being… The engrafted thought in me throve… And grew to summer strength in eve… Of root and leaf, but hath not bor…

No, mother, I am not sad: Why think me sad? I was always st… You remember, even when my heart w… And you used to let me dream at my… And now I like better to watch th…

SMALL current of the wilds afar… Changing and sudden as a baby’s mo… Now a green babbling rivulet in th… Now loitering broad and shallow th… Or threading 'mid the naked shoals…

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

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…

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,

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,

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;

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…

TOO rash, sweet birds, spring is… Sharp winds are fell in east and n… Late blossoms die for peeping fort… Days are unsunned, storms tear the… The tree-buds wilt before they swe…

SOME quick kind tears, some easy… And then ’tis past. ’Twas sad; yet sadness has its mor… Blue skies succeed skies overcast: Why should grief last?

A FLOWER was growing alone, Then alone and for ever alone: Some one came by, Saw the flower how fair it had gro… Chose it, plucked it to die.

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…

She has made me wayside posies: he… Bringing fresh memories of where t… As new-come travellers from a worl… Wake every while some image of the… So these whose buds our woodland b…