His eyes found nothing beautiful a… Nor wealth nor honour, glory nor d… Which he could grasp and keep with… Flowers bloomed for maidens, sword… The world’s big children had their…

Who has a thing to bring For a gift to our lord the king, Our king all kings above? A young girl brought him love; And he dowered her with shame,

Once in a saintly passion I cried with desperate grief, “O Lord, my heart is black with g… Of sinners I am chief.” Then stooped my guardian angel

He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left

WHAT are these leaves dark-spott… ‘A very holy herb.’ To what good use may I this herb… 'Press it on thy soul’s hurt.’ When herb unto the hurt I thus ap…

That one long dirge-moan sad and d… Low, muffled by the solemn stress Of such emotion as doth steep The soul in brooding quietness, Befits our anguished time too well…

IN the early morning-shine Of a certain day divine, I beheld a Maiden stand With a pitcher in her hand; Whence she poured into a cup

Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.

THE WHITE-ROSE garland at he… The crown of laurel at her head, Her noble life on earth complete, Lay her in the last low bed For the slumber calm and deep:

THROUGH foulest fogs of my own… Through midnight glooms of all the… Through sulphurous cannon-clouds t… Above the steam of blood in anger… Through all the sombre earth-oppre…

“Why are your songs all wild and b… As funeral dirges with the orphans… Each night since first the world w… A sequent day to laugh it down the… Chant us a glee to make our hearts…

‘Ceste insignefable et tragicque c… The sun was down, and twilight gre… Filled half the air; but in the ro… Whose curtain had been drawn all d… The twilight was a dusky gloom:

WHEN one is forty years and seve… Is seven and forty sad years old, He looks not onward for his Heave… The future is too blank and cold, Its pale flowers smell of graveyar…

Arcane danze D’immortal piede I ruinosi gioghi Scossero e l’ardue selve (oggi rom… Nido de’ venti). LEOPARDI Through the country to the town

To Alice and Hypatia Bradlaugh Who was Lilah? I am sure She was young and sweet and pure; With the forehead wise men love,- Here a lucid dawn above