O Fan of white silk, clear as frost on the grass—blade, You also are laid aside.

Let us deride the smugness of 'Th… So much for the gagged reviewers, It will pay them when the worms ar… vitals; These are they who objected to new…

The Past was goodly once, and yet… The best of it we know is that it’… Dwindled and faded quite, perished… Nothing is left at last of what on… Coming back like a ghost, staring…

How many will come after me singing as well as I sing, none be… Telling the heart of their truth as I have taught them to tell it; Fruit of my seed,

The very small children in patched… Being smitten with an unusual wisd… Stopped in their play as she passe… And cried up from their cobbles: Guarda! Ahi, guarda! Ch’ è be’ a!

FROM CHARLES D’ORLEANS God! that mad’st her well regard h… How she is so fair and bonny; For the great charms that are upon… Ready are all folks to reward her.

Young men riding in the street In the bright new season Spur without reason Causing their steeds to leap. And at the pace they keep

We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By,

Did I ’ear it ’arf in a doze: The Co-ops was a goin’ somewhere, Did I 'ear it while pickin’ 'ops; How they better start takin’ care, That the papers were gettin’ toget…

This boat is of shato-wood, and it… magnolia, Musicians with jewelled flutes and… Fill full the sides in rows, and o… Is rich for a thousand cups.

I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,

This lady in the white bath-robe w… peignoir, Is, for the time being, the mistre… And the delicate white feet of her… Are not more delicate than she is,

A poor clerk I, 'Arnaut the less’… And because I have small mind to… Day long, long day cooped on a sto… A-jumbling o’ figures for Maitre… I ha’ taken to rambling the South…

You say that I take a good deal u… That I strut in the robes of assu… In a few years no one will remembe… No one will remember the trivial p… The comic detail will be absent.

Sez the Times a silver lining Is what has set us pining, Montague, Montague! In the season sad and weary When our minds are very bleary,