Why dost thou want to sing When thou hast no song, my heart? If there be in thee a hidden sprin… Wherefore will no word start? On its way thou hearest no song,

The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.

Hears’t thou the dash of water, lo… With its perpetual tidings upward… Struggling against the wind? Oh,… For not in vain from its portentou… Thy heart, wild stream, hath yearn…

Hark, in the steeple the dull bell… Over the furrows ill ploughed by… Hark the bird-babble, the loud lar… Hark, from the sky, what the proph… Hark, in the pines, the free Wind…

Summer, sweet Summer, many-finger… We hold thee very dear, as well we… It is the kernel of the year to—da… All hail to thee! thou art a welco… If every insect were a fairy drumm…

When at Philippi, he who would ha… Great Rome from tyrants, for the… That lay 'twixt him and battle, so… From painful thoughts, he in a boo… That so the death of Portia might…

Here stands a giant stone from who… Comes down the sounding water: let… Till every sense of man and human… Is wrecked and quenched for ever,… Into the whirl of time, and withou…

Dead art thou? No more dead than… Over whose couch the saving God d… ‘She is not dead but sleepeth,’ sa… And took her by the hand! Thee knowledge never from Life’s…

Back shining from the pane, the fi… Seems outside in the snow: So love set free from love’s desir… Lights grief of long ago. The dark is thinned with snow-shee…

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

Sometimes, O Lord, thou lightest… A lamp that well might pharos all… Anon the light will neither rise n… Shrouded in danger gray the beacon… A pharos? Oh dull brain! poor dyi…

What gars ye sing sae, birdie, As gien ye war lord o’ the lift? On breid ye’re an unco sma’ lairdi… But in hicht ye’ve a kingly gift! A’ ye hae to coont yersel rich in

They all were looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them… Thou cam’st a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O son of man, to right my lot

I woke at midnight, and my heart, My beating heart, said this to me: Thou seest the moon, how calm and… The world is fair by day and night… But what is that to thee?

Alas, how easily things go wrong! A sigh too much, a kiss too long, And there follows a mist and weepi… And life is never the same again. Alas, how hardly things go right!