The wild night comes like an owl t… The black clouds follow fast, And the sun-gleams die, and the li… And the ships go heaving past, pas… The ships go heaving past!

Gloomy cliffs, so worn and wasted… Are ye not like giant tombstones r… Are ye not the sad memorials, tell… Dark with records ground and lette… Oh! ye show them, and I know them…

Songs of morning, with your breath Sing the darkness now to death; Radiant river, beaming bay, Fair as Summer, shine to-day; Flying torrent, falling slope, ~C…

From Andalusian gardens I bring the rose and rue, And leaves of subtle odour, To weave a gift for you. You’ll know the reason wherefore

Towards the hills of Jamberoo Some few fantastic shadows haste, Uplit with fires Like castle spires Outshining through a mirage waste.

OH, tell me, ye breezes that spri… Oh, tell me, ere passing away, If Leichhardt’s bold spirit has f… Where moulders the traveller’s cla… Perchance as ye flitted on heedles…

A MORNING crowns the Western h… A day begins to reign, A sun awakes o’er distant seas— Shall never sleep again. The world is growing old,

(Inscribed to G. L. Fagan, Esq.) ACROSS bleak widths of broken s… A fierce north-easter breaks, And makes a thunder on the lea— A whiteness of the lakes.

THE SONG of the water Doomed ever to roam, A beautiful exile, Afar from its home. The cliffs on the mountain,

IT LIES amongst the sleeping st… Far down the hidden mountain glade… And past its brink the torrent moa… For ever in a dreamy shade. A little patch of dark-green moss,

KATE, they say, is seventeen’ Do not count her sweet, you know. Arms of her are rather lean’ Ditto, calves and feet, you know. Features of Hellenic type

The viewless blast flies moaning p… Away to the forest trees, Where giant pines and leafless vin… Bend 'neath the wandering breeze! From ferny streams, unearthly scre…

TAKE the harp, but very softly f… Wind and wood shall help to wail h… Take the harp, but very softly, fo… Through the hours we would not hea… Other voices, sweeter voices, shal…

Set your face toward the darkness… Where unshaken woods are huddled,… Turn and tell of deserts lonely, l… Where in utter silence ever Time… Silence only broken when the sun i…

centered(From “Annatanam”) LOW as a lute, my love, beneath t… Of storm, I hear a melancholy win… The memorably mournful wind of yor… Which is the very brother of the o…