When thy hand touches mine, throug… Of intricate and interlacèd veins Shoot swift delights that border o… Flesh thrills to thrilling flesh. When in thine eager eyes I look t…

All perfect things are saddening i… The autumn wood robed in its scarl… The matchless tinting on the royal… Whose velvet leaf by no least flaw… Love’s supreme moment, when the so…

‘What’s in a glass of wine?’ There, set the glass where I can… Now listen to me, friend, while I… And tell you what I see– What I behold with my far-reachin…

It is done! in the fire’s fitful f… The last line has withered and cur… In a tiny white heap of dead ashes Lie buried the hopes of your world… There were mad foolish vows in eac…

We met at night in the season’s hight… Mid revel and mirth and song. I looked in your eye with a mute,… As you elbowed your way through th…

In Nature’s bright blossoms not a… That strange subtle essence more r… Which lies in the hearts of carnat… That unexplained something by men… Though modest the flower, yet grea…

Just a little every day– That’s the way! Seeds in darkness swell and grow, Tiny blades push through the snow; Never any flower of May

Just when all hope had perished in… And balked desire made havoc with… My cruel Ladye suddenly grew kind… And sent those gracious words upon… “When knowing Night her dusky sca…

I saw a maid with her chivalrous l… He was both tender and true; He kissed her lips, vowing over an… ‘Darling, I worship you.’ Sing, sing, bird of the spring,

Always at sea I think about the d… On barques invisible they seem to… The self-same course; and from the… Then I recall old words that they… And see their faces etched upon th…

Hark! high o’er the rattle and cla… Of traffic-filled streets, do you… And pushing and rushing to see wha… Like herds of wild cattle, go pell… There’s a fire in the city! the en…

Talk happiness. The world is sad… Without your woes. No path is who… Look for the places that are smoot… And speak of those, to rest the we… Of Earth, so hurt by one continuo…

Before this scarf was faded, What hours of mirth it knew; How gayly it paraded From smiling eyes to view. The days were tinged with glory,

They stood at the garden gate. By the lifting of a lid She might have read her fate In a little thing he did. He plucked a beautiful flower,