A Dealer, bewitched by gain-promi… Settled down near my Station, to… And to sell to, my men too! from w… Until then, I had screw’d just wh… And for this, to be sure, I so ha…

Nightly I watch the moon with sil… Flaking the city house-tops, till… Thy memory, Rosa, like a presence… Down in her light: for ever in her… Thy soul’s similitude my soul hath…

HER IMAGE haunts me. Lo! I mu… And straight it gathers from the g… My soul its mirror, which (as some… Impictures the cerulean smiles of… Through the hushed night retains i…

LOFTY and strenuous of sentiment But narrow and partial in its scop… And thence the bigot of a local se… Of habitudes, meshed round him lik… Hence too his intellect, though la…

A STREAMLET is a bright and b… In some wide desert, where it keep… Of each wayfarer’s heart: The Star of Evening is a gracious… Instinct as ’twere with all the lo…

Far up the River-hark! 'tls the l… Deadened by distance, of some Fow… And as into the stillness of the s… It wastes now with a dull vibrator… Look where, fast widening up at ei…

IT IS the morning star, arising… Out of yon hill’s dark bulk, as sh… Of its desire for day; then glides… And into the dim sky, there leavin… A whiteness in her wake that white…

POWER’S a cheat, success but tr… Even pleasure bears a sting; Still ’tis useless, useless sighin… Rather list to Hope replying— “The flowers must come again with…

How I hate those modern Poems Vaguer, looser than a dream! Pointless things that look like po… Only, to some held-back theme! Wild unequal, agitated,

Disease was lurking in the cup! Disastrous folly mantling there! For promised joys he quaffed it up… And his were ruin and despair! Yes—so deceived he tasted first,

A Genius caged in niceties of art… A full-souled Bard that should ha… Creatively peculiar-not as taught By models which (though rare and r… As polished jewels set in chastene…

Think you I have not skill to gat… If I could love it as some others… Or that I lack the spirit of a bo… And resolute man in any cause that… Because I scorn to juggle with yo…

Who hath lain him underneath A lone oak by a lonely stream; He hath heard an utterance breathe Sadder than all else may seen. Up in its dusk boughs out-tressing…

With musing mind I watch thee ste… Above those envious clouds that hi… Till now thy face; thou dost revea… More than the glaring sunlight did… So round me would I have thy ligh…

When a simple English maiden, Nested warm in Wilmicote, Sang forth like a lark uprising Heavenward with its morning note, Did no English ear that listened,