Timid and smiling, beautiful and s… She drops her head at every passer… Afraid of praise she hurries down… And turns away from every smile sh… The forward clown has many things…

Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.… What are life’s joys and gains? What pleasures crowd its ways, That man should take such pains To seek them all his days?

Gay was the Maid of Ocram As lady eer might be Ere she did venture past a maid To love Lord Gregory. Fair was the Maid of Ocram

The world is taking little heed And plods from day to day: The vulgar flourish like a weed, The learned pass away. We miss him on the summer path

The snow is gone from cottage tops The thatch moss glows in brighter… And eves in quick succession drops Where grinning ides once hath been Pit patting Wi a pleasant noise

The fir trees taper into twigs and… The rich blue green of summer all… Softening the roughest tempest alm… And offering shelter ever still an… To the small path that towels unde…

The spring is coming by a many sig… The trays are up, the hedges broke… That fenced the haystack, and the… Like some old antique fragment wea… And where suns peep, in every shel…

Is there another world for this fr… To warm with life and be itself ag… Something about me daily speaks th… And why should instinct nourish ho… 'Tis nature’s prophesy that such w…

The morning road is thronged with… Who seek the water for their Sund… They run to seek the shallow pit,… And dance about the water in the s… The boldest ventures first and das…

The winter comes; I walk alone, I want no bird to sing; To those who keep their hearts the… The winter is the spring. No flowers to please—no bees to hu…

Harvest approaches with its bustli… The wheat tans brown and barley bl… In yellow garb the oat land interv… And tawney glooms the valley thron… Silent the village grows, wood wan…

O for that sweet, untroubled rest That poets oft have sung!— The babe upon its mother’s breast, The bird upon its young, The heart asleep without a pain—

What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Can it noise and bustle be? Come and see. Praises sung or praises said

While snow the window—panes bedim, The fire curls up a sunny charm, Where, creaming o’er the pitcher’s… The flowering ale is set to warm; Mirth, full of joy as summer bees,