The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,

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…

Three sang of love together: one w… Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in… Flushed to the yellow hair and fin… And one there sang who soft and sm… Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at…

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

Live all thy sweet life through, Sweet Rose, dew—sprent, Drop down thine evening dew To gather it anew When day is bright:

I cannot tell you how it was, But this I know: it came to pass Upon a bright and sunny day When May was young; ah, pleasant… As yet the poppies were not born

How many seconds in a minute? Sixty, and no more in it. How many minutes in an hour? Sixty for sun and shower. How many hours in a day?

SAFE where I cannot die yet, Safe where I hope to lie too, Safe from the fume and the fret; You, and you, Whom I never forget.

The city mouse lives in a house; — The garden mouse lives in a bower, He’s friendly with the frogs and t… And sees the pretty plants in flow… The city mouse eats bread and chee…

Wee wee husband, Give me some money, I have no comfits, And I have no honey. Wee wee wifie,

While roses are so red, While lilies are so white, Shall a woman exalt her face Because it gives delight? She’s not so sweet as a rose,

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

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

Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…

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…