‘The voice of One hath spoken, And the bended reed is bruised— The golden bowl is broken, And the silver cord is loosed.’ Over the eyes of gladness

Alone they walked—their fingers kn… And swaying listlessly as might a… Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the… Of some sun-flooded afternoon of… Within the clover-fields the tickl…

They rode right out of the morning… A glimmering, glittering cavalcade Of knights and ladies and every on… In princely sheen arrayed; And the king of them all, O he ro…

There are many things that boys ma… Why this and that are thus and so,… Who made the world in the dark and… The great sun up to lighten it: Boys know new things every day—

Like a drift of faded blossoms Caught in a slanting rain, His fingers glimpsed down the stri… In a tremulous refrain: Patter and tinkle, and drip and dr…

For the sake of guilty conscience,… time Of the clockworks of my nature, I… A weak and sinful creature, as reg… The last five years and better. I…

Where are they—the Afterwhiles— Luring us the lengthening miles Of our lives? Where is the dawn With the dew across the lawn Stroked with eager feet the far

My little story, Cousin Rufus sai… Is not so much a story as a fact. It is about a certain willful boy— An aggrieved, unappreciated boy, Grown to dislike his own home very…

A languid atmosphere, a lazy breez… With labored respiration, moves th… From distant reaches, till the gol… Break in crisp whispers at my feet… My book, neglected of an idle mind…

Because her eyes were far too deep And holy for a laugh to leap Across the brink where sorrow trie… To drown within the amber tide; Because the looks, whose ripples k…

Close the book and dim the light, I shall read no more to-night. No—I am not sleepy, dear— Do not go: sit by me here In the darkness and the deep

While with Ambition’s hectic flam… He wastes the midnight oil, And dreams, high-throned on height… To rest him from his toil,— Death’s Angel, like a vast eclips…

Dreamer, say, will you dream for m… A wild sweet dream of a foreign la… Whose border sips of a foaming sea With lips of coral and silver sand… Where warm winds loll on the shady…

It’s the curiousest thing in creat… Whenever I hear that old song, ‘Do They Miss Me at Home?’ I’m… My life seems as short as it’s lon… Far ever’thing ‘pears like adzackl…