“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…

NAY, tell me not. I will not kno… Because of her my life is bare, A waste where blow-seeds spring an… Then die because the soil is spent… And leave no token they were there…

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…

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 yet! I thought this time ’twas done at… the workings perfected, the life i… and there’s the flaw again, the pe… the fretting small impossibility

The violet in the wood, that’s swe… Is longer sweet than roses of red… Set me sweet violets along my way, And bid the red rose flower, but n… Ah violet, ah rose, why not the tw…

The sun drops luridly into the wes… darkness has raised her arms to dr… before the time, not waiting as of… till he has come to her behind the… and the smooth waves grow sullen i…

‘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…

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:

BUT wait. Let each by each the d… One faded and one blown like summe… What need of hope, with summer in… What of regret, with all fair morr… If yesterday be gone, No reck, ’t…

Good friend, be patient: goes the… well, can you groove it straight w… and, sigh or scold, and, argue or… what have you done but waste your… on impotent fool’s battles with th…

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…

‘I AM Joy,’ she said; but her vo… Too low for laughter; ‘I am Love ’; but her eyes lacked… And the tear that springs after; ‘I am Life’; but she seemed too c…

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…

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…