We are the ghosts of those small f… That in the opening of the year, ‘Neath rosemary and myrtle bowers, In crimson vests appear. Far, underneath the blue pine wood…

If there were any power in human l… Or in th’ intensest longing of the… Then should the oceans and the lan… Ye from my sight all unprevailing… Then should the yearning of my bos…

BROUGHT FROM SWITZERLAN… Flower of the mountain! by the wan… Robbed of thy beauty’s short-lived… Didst thou but blow to gem the str… And bloom, to wither in the strang…

Terrible music, whose strange utte… Seemed like the spell of some drea… Motionless misery, impotent despai… With beckoning visions of things d… Restless desire, sharp poignant ag…

And I Am reading, too, my book of memory… With eyelids closed, over the cres… And the blue, marbled sea, I seek… All present things forgotten, on t…

The blossoms hang again upon the t… As when with their sweet breath th… Against my casement, on that sunny… When thou, first blossom of my spr… And as I lay, panting from the fi…

Written among the Ruins of the So… Thou who within thyself dost not b… Ruins as great as these, though no… Canst scarce through life have tra… Or lack’st the spirit of a pilgrim…

My sun went down at noon to-day, O Sorrow! For in thine eyes My sun doth rise; Then, Love, I pray,

When we first met, dark wintry ski… And the wild winds sang requiem to… But thou, in all thy beauty’s prid… And my young heart knew hope witho… When we last parted, summer suns w…

Have you not heard that in some de… The Dead retain in beauty undistu… The very countenance they living w… But if forbidden yearning vainly c… To look upon the hidden face once…

Life wanes, and the bright sunligh… Sets o’er the mountain-tops, where… O Innocence! O Trustfulness! O… Where are ye all, white-handed sis… Who with me on my way did walk alo…

The hours are past, love, Oh, fled they not too fast, love! Those happy hours, when down the m… We saw the rosy mists of morning g… And hand in hand, went forth upon…

O lady! thou, who in the olden tim… Hadst been the star of many a poet… Thou, who unto a mind of mould sub… Weddest the gentle graces that bes… Fair woman’s best! forgive the dar…

Where is thy home in thy promised… Desolate and forsaken! The stranger’s arm hath seized thy… Thou art bowed beneath the strange… And the stranger thy birthright ha…

ON GIVING A FRIEND A CRO… We should each other’s crosses hel… Yet I, dear friend, lay this upon… Would Heaven, indulgent, hear my… No heavier one should ever on it r…