When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled beeches start In a fringe of salty reeds;

Chloe’s hair, no doubt, was bright… Lydia’s mouth more sweetly sad; Hebe’s arms were rather whiter; Languorous-lidded Helen had Eyes more blue than e’er the sky w…

I was seventy-seven, come August, I shall shortly be losing my bloom… I’ve experienced zephyr and raw gu… And (symbolical) flood and simoom. When you come to this time of abat…

I cannot rest, I cannot rest In straight and shiny wood, My woven hands upon my breast— The dead are all so good! The earth is cool across their eye…

So silent I when Love was by He yawned, and turned away; But Sorrow clings to my apron-str… I have so much to say.

There’s a place I know where the… And wayward vines go roaming, Where the lilacs nod, and a marble… Is pale, in scented gloaming. And at sunset there comes a lady f…

So delicate my hands, and long, They might have been my pride. And there were those to make them… Who for their touch had died. Too frail to cup a heart within,

My hand, a little raised, might pr… Where I may look, the frosted pea… So shaped before Olympus was begu… Spanned each to each, now, by a si… Thus to face Beauty have I travel…

The friends I made have slipped a… And who’s the one that cares? A trifling lot and best forgot– And that’s my tale, and theirs. Then if my friendships break and b…

With you, my heart is quiet here, And all my thoughts are cool as ra… I sit and let the shifting year Go by before the windowpane, And reach my hand to yours, my dea…

Never love a simple lad, Guard against a wise, Shun a timid youth and sad, Hide from haunted eyes. Never hold your heart in pain

The pure and worthy Mrs. Stowe Is one we all are proud to know As mother, wife, and authoress– Thank God, I am content with less…

If, with the literate, I am Impelled to try an epigram, I never seek to take the credit; We all assume that Oscar said it.

Joy stayed with me a night— Young and free and fair— And in the morning light He left me there. Then Sorrow came to stay,