Sad-hearted, be at peace: the snow… Buried in sepulchre of ghastly sno… But spring is floating up the sout… And darkling the pale snowdrop wai… Let me persuade: in dull December…

Speak, Prophet of the Lord! We m… To find thee with us in thine anci… Haggard and pale from some bleak w… Empty of all save God and thy lou… Nor with like rugged message quick…

In the air why such a ringing? On the earth why such a droning? In the air the lark is singing; On the earth the wind is moaning. ‘I am blest, in sunlight swinging!…

Tumultuous rushing o’er the outstr… A wildered maze of comets and of s… The blood of changeless God that… With quick diastole up the immorta… A phantom host that moves and work…

On the far horizon there Heaps of cloudy darkness rest; Though the wind is in the air There is stupor east and west. For the sky no change is making,

ALAS, my tent! see through it a… Moaning, poor Fancy’s doves are s… I sit alone, a sorrow half asleep, My consciousness the blackness all… No pilgrim I, a homeless wanderer…

Nobody knows the world but me. The rest go to bed; I sit up and… I’m a better observer than any of… For I never look out till the twi… And never then without green glass…

The Deil’s forhooit his ain, his… The Deil’s forhooit his ain! His bairns are greitin in ilka neu… For the Deil’s forhooit his ain. The Deil he tuik his stick and hi…

Why came in dreams the low-born ma… Between thee and thy rest? In vain thy whispered message ran, Though justice was its quest! Did some young ignorant angel dare…

In God alone, the perfect end, Wilt thou find thyself or friend.

AND do not fear to hope. Can poe… More than the Father’s heart rich… Each time we smell the autumn’s dy… We know the primrose time will com… Not more we hope, nor less would s…

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…

Would-be prophets tell us We shall not re-know Them that walked our fellows In the ways below! Smoking, smouldering Tophets

This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…

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