IT is the mellow season When gold enchantment lies On stream and road and woodland, To gladden soul’s surmise. The little old grey homesteads

When all the stars are sown Across the night-blue space, With the immense unknown, In silence face to face. We stand in speechless awe

BROWNING, old fellow, Your leaves grow yellow, Beginning to mellow As seasons pass. Your cover is wrinkled,

Make me over, Mother April, When the sap beings to stir! When thy flowery hand delivers All the mountain-prisoned rivers, And thy great heart beats and quiv…

THOUGHT is a garden wide and ol… For airy creatures to explore, Where grow the great fantastic flo… With truth for honey at the core. There like a wild marauding bee

In Memory of John Keats By the Aurelian Wall, Where the long shadows of the cent… From Caius Cestius’ tomb, A weary mortal seeking rest found…

IN the Garden of Eden, planted b… There were goodly trees in the spr… Trees of beauty and height and gra… To stand in splendor before His f… Apple and hickory, ash and pear,

MY heart is a garden of dreams Where you walk when day is done, Fair as the royal flowers, Calm as the lingering sun. Never a drouth comes there,

I know a vale where I would go on… When June comes back and all the… Is glad with summer. Deep in shad… A mighty cleft between the bosomin… A cool dim gateway to the mountain…

ONCE in the Workshop, ages ago, The clay was wet and the fire was… And He who was bent on fashioning… Moulded a shape from a clod, And put the loyal heart therein;

ON the world’s far edges Faint and blue, Where the rocky ledges Stand in view, Fades the rosy tender

HERE we came when love was young… Now that love is old, Shall we leave the floor unswept And the hearth acold? Here the hill-wind in the dusk,

Not in the ancient abbey, Nor in the city ground, Not in the lonely mountains, Nor in the blue profound, Lay him to rest when his time is c…

OH, well the world is dreaming Under the April moon, Her soul in love with beauty, Her senses all a-swoon! Pure hangs the silver crescent

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…