#English
It was in the prime Of the sweet springtime In the linnet’s throat Trembled the love note, And the love-stirred air
O bird, that used to press, Thy head against my cheek With touch that seem’d to speak, And ask a tender 'yes’ – Ay de mí, my bird:
Spring comes hither Buds the rose . . . Roses wither Sweet spring goes . . . O ja là
Your soul was lifted by the wings… Hearing the master of the violin: You praised him, praised the great… Who made that fine Chaconne; but… Of old Antonio Stradivari? –him
Day is dying! Float, o song, Down the westward river, Requiem chanting to the Day, Day, the mighty giver! Pierced by shafts of Time he blee…
Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together t… Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes sing… O budding time!
You love the roses - so do I. I w… The sky would rain down roses, as… From off the shaken bush. Why wil… Then all the valley would be pink… And soft to tread on. They would…
What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life—to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to ea...
If you sit down at set of sun And count the acts that you have d… And, counting, find One self-denying deed, one word That eased the heart of him who he…
Warm whisp’ring through the slende… Came to me a gentle sound, Whis’pring of a secret found In the clear sunshine ‘mid the gol… Said it was sleeping for me in the…
Every soul that touches yours— Be it the slightest contact— Get there from some good; Some little grace; one kindly thou… One aspiration yet unfelt;
“I grant you ample leave To use the hoary formula 'I am’ Naming the emptiness where thought… But fill the void with definition,… Will be no more a datum than the w…
Maiden crowned with glossy blackne… Lithe as panther forest-roaming, Long-armed Naiad when she dances On a stream of ether floating, Bright, o bright Fedalma!
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the… For view there are the houses oppo… Cutting the sky with one long line… Like solid fog: far as the eye can… Monotony of surface & of form
‘Mid my gold-brown curls There twined a silver hair: I plucked it idly out And scarcely knew ’twas there. Coiled in my velvet sleeve it lay