LITTLE, perhaps, thou valuest v… Little hast read of what my hand h… Yet I with thy brave memory would… The muse’s amaranths. For thou we… For freedom; well her sacred lesso…

Long ere I knew thee—years of lov… A shape would gather from my dream… The soul-sweet influence of its ge… Into my heart, to thrill it to the… Then would I wake, with lonely he…

There’s a regret that from my boso… Wrings forth a dirgy sweetness, li… Of deathward love; that ever in my… Uttereth such tones as in some for… Seem gathered from the harmonies t…

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…

THERE’S a rare Soul of Poesy w… But concentrated by the chastened… Of constant hearts. Where’er the… Of beautiful Nature hath enhanced… Of some Petrarchian mind whose st…

DEEP trust in God—for that I st… Through all the grim doubts that b… When in the amazement of far-reach… We list the labourings that for ev… Like dubious thunders through thos…

The loud, apt epithet, applying su… The dim-drawn image, artfully obsc… The perfect stanza, framed of word… And round as pearls, yet liquid to… A pith of phrase, and musical arra…

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…

First see those ample melons-brind… With mingled green and brown is al… For they are ripe, and mealy at th… And saturate with the nectar of th… And here their fellows of the mars…

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…

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…

MARK yon runnel how ’tis flowing… Like a sylvan spirit dreaming Of the Spring-blooms near it blow… And the sunlight in it gleaming! Where that shelving rock is spied,

I hear thee, echo! And I start to… With a strange shock, as from amon… Thy voice, reverbering in swift mu… Dies down the stream, or with its… Blends whisperingly, until my boso…

HIGH ’mid the shelves of a grey… Riseth in Babylonian mass above, In a benched cleft, as in the moul… Of grey-beard Time himself, I sit… And gaze with a keen wondering hap…

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,