The days are clear, Day after day, When April’s here, That leads to May, And June

‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,

I wish you were a pleasant wren, And I your small accepted mate; How we’d look down on toilsome men… We’d rise and go to bed at eight Or it may be not quite so late.

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.

Young Love lies sleeping In May—time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light: White lambs come grazing,

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

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…

I said: This is a beautiful fresh… I said: I will delight me with it… Will watch its lovely curve of lan… Will watch its leaves unclose, its… I said: Old earth has put away he…

Ten years ago it seemed impossible That she should ever grow so calm… With self—remembrance in her warme… And dim dried eyes like an exhaust… Slow—speaking when she had some fa…

On the grassy banks Lambkins at their pranks; Woolly sisters, woolly brothers Jumping off their feet While their woolly mothers

I bore with thee long weary days a… Through many pangs of heart, throu… I bore with thee, thy hardness, co… For three and thirty years. Who else had dared for thee what…

Ah! changed and cold, how changed… With stiffened smiling lips and co… Changed, yet the same; much knowin… This was the promise of the days o… Grown hard and stubborn in the anc…

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…

Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,

I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,