The old eternal spring once more Comes back the sad eternal way, With tender rosy light before The going-out of day. The great white moon across my doo…

THERE, close the door! I shall not need these lodgings an… Now that I go, dismantled wall an… Reproach me and deplore. ‘How well,’ they say,

LO, now, the journeying sun, Another day’s march done, Kindles his campfire at the edge o… And in the twilight pale Above his crimson trail,

ALONG the wintry skyline, Crowning the rocky crest, Stands the bare screen of hardwood… Against the saffron west,— Its gray and purple network

LORD of the grass and hill, Lord of the rain, White Overlord of will, Master of pain, I who am dust and air

OH, the shambling sea is a sexton… And well his work is done. With an equal grave for lord and k… He buries them every one. Then hoy and rip, with a rolling h…

When April winds arrive And the soft rains are here, Some morning by the roadside These gipsy folk appear. We never see their coming,

THE tall carnations crown the gar… Bowed on their stalks. Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods… ‘What are the odds That we shall wake up here within…

WHO called us forth out of darkne… Who set our hands to the toiling,… Darkly they mused, predestined to… Sowing the seed of wisdom, guardin… Little they reckoned privation, hu…

WHEN the first silent frost has… The ghost-yard of the goldenrod, And laid the blight of his cold ha… Upon the warm autumnal land, And all things wait the subtle cha…

ALL day long beneath the sun Shining through the fields they ru… Singing in a cadence known To the seraphs round the throne. And the traveller drawing near

AH, Pierrot, Where is thy Columbine? What vandal could untwine That gay rose-rope of thine, And spill thy joy like wine,

(Sappho XXIII) I loved thee, Atthis, in the long… When the great oleanders were in f… In the broad herded meadows full o… And we would often at the fall of…

WHEN I am only fit to go to bed, Or hobble out to sit within the su… Ring down the curtain, say the pla… And the last petals of the poppy s… I do not want to live when I am o…

What need have you of praising? C… Some lonely poet no one praises ye… Him rather would I choose, that h… A fellow-craftsman knew him, marke… But you—the whole world praises yo…