I, having loved ever since I was… wavered In these affections; never through… rich or in the presence of clergym… loves;

Let us abandon then our gardens an… And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the… Sour to the fruitful seed Is the cold earth under this cloud…

Cut if you will, with Sleep’s dul… Each day to half its length, my fr… The years that Time take off my l… He’ll take from off the other end!

Heap not on this mound Roses that she loved so well: Why bewilder her with roses, That she cannot see or smell? She is happy where she lies

I cannot but remember    When the year grows old— October—November—    How she disliked the cold! She used to watch the swallows

Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stame… A poisonous pollen blown, And odors rank, unbreathable,

Pity me not because the light of d… At close of day no longer walks th… Pity me not for beauties passed aw… From field and thicket as the the… Pity me not the waning of the moon…

All I could see from where I stoo… Was three long mountains and a woo… I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line

Love, if I weep it will not matte… And if you laugh I shall not care… Foolish am I to think about it, But it is good to feel you there. Love, in my sleep I dreamed of wa…

Once more into my arid days like d… Like wind from an oasis, or the so… Of cold sweet water bubbling under… A treacherous messenger, the thoug… Comes to destroy me; once more I…

Ho, Giant! This is I! I have built me a bean-stalk into… La,—but it’s lovely, up so high! This is how I came,—I put Here my knee, there my foot,

The courage that my mother had Went with her, and is with her sti… Rock from New England quarried; Now granite in a granite hill. The golden brooch my mother wore

Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I’ll make you little jackets; I’ll make you little trousers

“Wolf!” cried my cunning heart At every sheep it spied, And roused the countryside. “Wolf! Wolf!”—and up would start Good neighbours, bringing spade