‘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,

Margaret has a milking—pail, And she rises early; Thomas has a threshing—flail, And he’s up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the gra…

I looked for that which is not, no… And hope deferred made my heart si… But years must pass before a hope… Is resigned utterly. I watched and waited with a steadf…

Unmindful of the roses, Unmindful of the thorn, A reaper tired reposes Among his gathered corn: So might I, till the morn!

There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…

I did not chide him, though I kne… That he was false to me. Chide the exhaling of the dew, The ebbing of the sea, The fading of a rosy hue,—

Oh happy happy land! Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light.'— ‘Alas, I have not eyes for this f… Hold fast my hand.’—

If the moon came from heaven, Talking all the way, What could she have to tell us, And what could she say? ‘I’ve seen a hundred pretty things…

Crimson curtains round my mother’s… Silken soft as may be; Cool white curtains round about my… For I am but a baby.

Hope new born one pleasant morn Died at even; Hope dead lives nevermore. No, not in heaven. If his shroud were but a cloud

Winter is cold—hearted Spring is yea and nay, Autumn is a weather—cock Blown every way: Summer days for me

The first was like a dream through… The second like a tedious numbing… While the half—frozen pulses lagge… Beneath a winter moon. ‘But,’ says my friend, ‘what was t…

There’s blood between us, love, my… There’s father’s blood, there’s br… And blood’s a bar I cannot pass. I choose the stairs that mount abo… Stair after golden sky—ward stair,

Oh, fair to see Blossom—laden cherry tree, Arrayed in sunny white; An April day’s delight, Oh, fair to see!