We have walked in Love’s land a l… We have learnt his lesson a little… And shall we not part at the end o… With a sigh, a smile? A little while in the shine of the…

Let be at last; give over words an… Vainly were all things said: Better at last to find a place for… Only dead. Silence were best, with songs and…

The fire is out, and spent the war… (This is the end of every song man… The golden wine is drunk, the dreg… Bitter as wormwood and as salt as… And health and hope have gone the…

Shall one be sorrowful because of… Which hath no earthly crown, Which lives and dies, unknown? Because no words of his shall ever… Her maiden heart to own

Upon the eyes, the lips, the feet, On all the passages of sense, The atoning oil is spread with swe… Renewal of lost innocence. The feet, that lately ran so fast

Where river and ocean meet in a gr… Beyond the bar, where on the dunes… Above, one windmill stands forlorn… I will set my sail on a stormy day… That I have sought and never foun…

When I am old, And sadly steal apart, Into the dark and cold, Friend of my heart! Remember, if you can,

Here, where the breath of the scen… sun-stained air, On a steep hill-side, on a grassy… and heard Only the faint breeze pass in a wh…

A gift of Silence, sweet! Who may not ever hear: To lay down at your unobservant fe… Is all the gift I bear. I have no songs to sing,

Before my light goes out for ever… graces, I would not reck of length of days… But cry: ‘One day of the great lo… Grant me to see and touch once mor…

Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer: summer’s loss Seems little, dear! on days like t…

All the moon-shed nights are over, And the days of gray and dun; There is neither may nor clover, And the day and night are one. Not an hamlet, not a city

Even now the fragrant darkness of… Had brushed my cheek; and once, in… Her hand upon my hand lay tranquil… What things unspoken trembled in t… Always I know, how little severs…

(1887-1895) Through the green boughs I hardly… They twined so close: the sun was… And now the sullen trees in sombre… Stand bare beneath the sinister, s…

By the sad waters of separation Where we have wandered by divers w… I have but the shadow and imitatio… Of the old memorial days. In music I have no consolation,