Who lights the fire-that forth so… And freely frolicketh the fairy sm… Some pretty one who never felt the… Glad girl, or maiden more sedate t… Pedant it cannot, villain cannot b…

O Lord, if on the wind, at cool o… I heard one whispered word of migh… If through the darkness, as in bed… But once had come a hand upon my f… If but one sign that might not be…

In the desert by the bush, Moses to his heart said Hush David on his bed did pray; God all night went not away.

Out of the gulf into the glory, Father, my soul cries out to be li… Dark is the woof of my dismal stor… Thorough thy sun—warp stormily dri… Out of the gulf into the glory,

Brother artist, help me; come! Artists are a maimed band: I have words but not a hand; Thou hast hands though thou art du… Had I thine, when words did fail–

If I were a monk, and thou wert a… Pacing it wearily, wearily, Twixt chapel and cell till day wer… Wearily, wearily– How would it fare with these heart…

‘Grant, Lord, her prayer, and let… She crieth after us.’ Nay, to the dogs ye cast it so; Serve not a woman thus. Their pride, by condescension fed,

Such guests as you, sir, were not… When I my homely dish with care d… ’Twas certain humble souls I woul… Who do not turn from wholesome mil… You came, slow-trotting on the nar…

‘Death, whaur do ye bide, auld De… ‘I bide in ilka breath,’ Quo’ Death; ‘No i’ the pyramids, No whaur the wormie rids

Thy world is made to fit thine own… A nursery for thy children small, The playground-footstool of thy th… Thy solemn school-room, Father of… When day is done, in twilight’s gl…

Forth to his study the sculptor go… In a mood of lofty mirth: ‘Now shall the tongues of my carpi… Confess what my art is worth! In my brain last night the vision…

Ray of the Dawn of Truth, Aubrey… Forgive my play fantastic with thy… Distilling its true essence by the… Which Love 'neath Fancy’s limbeck… I know not what thy semblance, wha…

LORD, I do choose the higher tha… I would be handled by thy nursing… After thy will, not my infant alar… Hurt me thou wilt-but then more lo… If more can be and less, in love’s…

The sky has turned its heart away, The earth its sorrow found; The daisies turn from childhood’s… And creep into the ground. The earth is black and cold and ha…

Upon a rock I sat-a mountain-side… Far, far forsaken of the old sea’s… A rock where ancient waters’ rise… Recoil and plunge, eddy, and oscil… Had worn and worn, while races liv…