‘A cup for hope!’ she said, In springtime ere the bloom was ol… The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth’s richer red. ‘A cup for love!’ how low,
Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its… It frets against the boundary shor… All earth’s full rivers cannot fil… The sea, that drinking thirsteth s…
She holds a lily in her hand, Where long ranks of Angels stand, A silver lily for her wand. All her hair falls sweeping down; Her hair that is a golden brown,
Flowers preach to us if we will he… The rose saith in the dewy morn: I am most fair; Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn.
January cold desolate; February all dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune
None other Lamb, none other Name, None other hope in Heav’n or eart… None other hiding place from guilt… None beside Thee! My faith burns low, my hope burns…
The splendour of the kindling day, The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way… And have done With all we grasp and toil amongst…
O wind, where have you been, That you blow so sweet? Among the violets Which blossom at your feet. The honeysuckle waits
Young Love lies sleeping In May—time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light: White lambs come grazing,
Hear what the mournful linnets say… ‘We built our nest compact and war… But cruel boys came round our way And took our summerhouse by storm. ‘They crushed the eggs so neatly l…
Why were you born when the snow wa… You should have come to the cuckoo… Or when grapes are green in the cl… Or, at least, when lithe swallows… For their far off flying
Herself a rose, who bore the Rose… She bore the Rose and felt its th… All loveliness new—born Took on her bosom its repose, And slept and woke there night and…
‘I dreamt I caught a little owl And the bird was blue —’ ‘But you may hunt for ever And not find such a one.’ ‘I dreamt I set a sunflower,
I know a baby, such a baby, — Round blue eyes and cheeks of pink… Such an elbow furrowed with dimple… Such a wrist where creases sink. ‘Cuddle and love me, cuddle and lo…
Under the ivy bush One sits sighing, And under the willow tree One sits crying: — Under the ivy bush