This is the truth as I see it, my… Out in the wind and the rain: They who have nothing have little… Nothing to lose or to gain. Here by the road at the end o’ the…

When dusk falls cool as a rained-o… And a tawny tower the twilight sho… With the crescent moon, the silver… A turret window that grows a-light… There is a path that my Fancy kno…

From 'One Day and Another’ What little things are those That hold our happiness! A smile, a glance, a rose Dropped from her hair or dress;

The teasel and the horsemint sprea… The hillside as with sunset, sown With blossoms, o’er the Standing-… That ripples in its rocky bed: There are no treasuries that hold

The joys that touched thee once, b… The sympathies of sky and sea, The friendships of each rock and p… That made thy lonely life, ah me! In Tempe or in Gargaphie.

Why should I pine? when there in… Are eyes to woo, and not in vain; Dark eyes, and dreamily divine: And lips, as red as sunlit wine; Sweet lips, that never know disdai…

Why speak of Giamschid rubies Whence rosy starlight drips? I know a richer crimson, The ruby of her lips. Why speak of pearls of Oman

How long had I sat there and had… The gleam of the glow-worm till so… The heaven was starless, the fores… And the vistas of darkness stretch… And late ‘mid the trees had I lin…

The trees took on fantastic shapes That night when I came to the gra… The very bushes seemed to change; This seemed a hag’s head, that an… The road itself seemed darkly stra…

Can freckled August,-drowsing war… Beside a wheat-shock in the white-… In her hot hair the yellow daisies… O bird of rain, lend aught but sle… To thee? when no plumed weed, no f…

Out, out in the open fields, Where the great, green book of Go… The book that its wisdom yields To each soul that is not a clod, Lies wide for the world to read,

No more for him, where hills look… Shall Morning crown Her rainy brow with blossom bands!… The Morning Hours, whose rosy han… Drop wildflowers of the breaking s…

Leaves fall and flowers fade, Days come and go: Now is sweet Summer laid Low in her leafy glade, Low like a fragrant maid,

In some glad way I know thereof: A garden glows down in my heart, Wherein I meet and often part With many an ancient tale of love A Romeo garden, banked with bloom…

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,