‘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,

I, a princess, king—descended, dec… Would rather be a peasant with her… For all I shine so like the sun,… Two and two my guards behind, two… Two and two on either hand, they g…

Dancing on the hill—tops, Singing in the valleys, Laughing with the echoes, Merry little Alice. Playing games with lambkins

She stares the livelong day; Her wig of gold is stiff and cold And cannot change to grey.

I planted a hand And there came up a palm, I planted a heart And there came up balm. Then I planted a wish,

Rushes in a watery place, And reeds in a hollow; A soaring skylark in the sky, A darting swallow; And where pale blossom used to han…

If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…

Maiden May sat in her bower, In her blush rose bower in flower, Sweet of scent; Sat and dreamed away an hour, Half content, half uncontent.

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

I would not if I could undo my pa… Tho’ for its sake my future is a b… My past, for which I have myself… For all its faults and follies fir… I would not cast anew the lot once…

The peach tree on the southern wal… Has basked so long beneath the sun… Her score of peaches great and sma… Bloom rosy, every one. A peach for brothers, one for each…

“Too late for love, too late for j… Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch