With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…

Where are they, that song and tale Tell of? lands our childhood knew? Sea-locked Faerylands that trail Morning summits, dim with dew, Crimson o’er a crimson sail.

Once when it had rained all night And all day, the next day, why, In our yard, a lot of white, Dumpy toadstools grew close by Our old peach tree: some were high…

Land-Marks The way is rock and rubbish to a r… That leads through woods of stunte… Into a valley that no flower adorn… One mass of blackened brier; overf…

Far as the eye can see, in domes a… Buttress and curve, ruins of shift… In whose wild making wind and sea… The white dunes stretch. The wind… Striving for strange effects that…

Like some wild child that laughs a… Impatient of its mother’s arms, The wood brook from the hillside l… Eager to reach the neighboring far… Complaining crystal in its throat

Sodden and shivering, in mud and r… Half in the light that serves but… The blackness of an alley and the… Homeward of wretchedness in tatter… A boy stands crouched; big drops o…

Within the world of every man’s de… Three things have power to lift hi… Through dreams, religion, and ecst… The star-like shapes of Beauty, T… I never hoped that, this side far-…

He stands above all worldly schism… And, gazing over life’s abysm Beholds within the starry range Of heaven laws of death and change… That, through his soul’s prophetic…

The dogs made way for him and snar… And little children to their paren… Big-eyed with fear, when, gruff of… Bent-backed he passed who had the… In old drab coat and trousers, sho…

The day, all fierce with carmine,… An Indian face towards Earth and… The west, like some gaunt vase, in… Its ashes under smouldering skies, Athwart whose bowl one red cloud s…

When blood-root blooms and trilliu… Unclasp their stars to sun and rai… My heart strikes hands with winds… And wanders in the woods again. O urging impulse, born of spring,

Why have you come? to see me in my… A thing to spit on, to despise and… And then to ask me! You, by whom… And then cast by, like some vile r… What shelter could you give me, no…

I oft have met her slowly wanderin… Beside a leafy stream, her locks b… Her cheeks a hectic flush, more fa… As if on her the sumach copse had… Or I have seen her sitting, tall…

Behold a hag whom Life denies a k… As he rides questward in knighterr… Only when he hath passed her is it… To know, too late, the Fairy in d…