An angel saw me sitting by a brook… Pleased with the silence, and the… Of wind and water which did fall a… He gently stirred his plumes and f… An outworn doubt, which fell on me…

What dost thou here, O soul, Beyond thy own control, Under the strange wild sky? 0 stars, reach down your hands, And clasp me in your silver bands,

Satan, avaunt! Nay, take thine hour, Thou canst not daunt, Thou hast no power; Be welcome to thy nest,

A gentle wind, of western birth On some far summer sea, Wakes daisies in the wintry earth, Wakes hopes in wintry me. The sun is low; the paths are wet,

A clock aeonian, steady and tall, With its back to creation’s flamin… Stands at the foot of a dim, wide… Swing, swang, its pendulum goes, Swing-swang-here-there!

Christmas-Days are still in store… Will they change-steal faded hithe… Or come fresh as heretofore, Summering all our winter weather? Surely they will keep their bloom

A fresh young voice that sings to… So often many a simple thing, Should surely not unanswered be By all that I can sing. Dear voice, be happy every way

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…

With us there is no gray fearing, With us no aching for lack! For the morn it is always nearing, And the night is at our back. At times a song will fall dumb,

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…

The Year Of The Trouble In Lanc… The skies are pale, the trees are… The earth is dull and old; The frost is glittering as if The very sun were cold.

LORD, what I once had done with… Had I been from the first true to… Grant me, now old, to do-with bett… And humbler heart, if not the brai… So wilt thou, in thy gentleness an…

There was an auld fisher, he sat b… An’ luikit oot ower the sea; The bairnies war playin, he smil’t… But the tear stude in his e’e. An’ it’s-oh to win awa, awa!

A pool of broken sunbeams lay Upon the passage-floor, Radiant and rich, profound and gay As ever diamond bore. Small, flitting hands a handkerchi…