‘ Succinctae sacra Dianae ’.-OVID There the ragged sunlight lay Tawny on thick ferns and gray

In her wimple of wind and her slip… The twilight comes like a little g… Herding her owls with many’tu-whoo… Her little brown owls in the woodl… Where dimly she walks in her whisp…

There is a scent of roses and spil… Between the moonlight and the laur… The marble idol glimmers on its sh… White as a star, among a heaven of… Here all my life lies like a spilt…

A cry went through the darkness; a… Hurrying through storm, gazed with… Then cloaked herself in scud: the… Of surges ceased; and then th’ Ae… Of the wild siren, Wind, within t…

The frogs still cry, ‘Knee-deep!… Among its starlit pools, When dark the woodland lies asleep… And dusk its water cools: The fireflies round its bank of fe…

You have forgot: it once was red With life, this rose, to which you… When, there in happy days gone by, You plucked it, on my breast to li… ‘Sleep there, O rose! how sweet a…

To it the forest tells The mystery that haunts its heart… Its form in cogitation deep, that… The shadow of each myth that dwell… In nature be it Nymph or Fay or…

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…

He waited till within her tower Her taper signalled him the hour. He was a prince both fair and brav… What hope that he would love her s… He of the Persian dynasty;

The hat he wore was full of holes, And his battered shoes were worn t… His shirt was a rag, held together… And his trousers patched with outs… A negro tramp, a roustabout,

Noera, when sad Fall Has grayed the fallow; Leaf-cramped the wood-brook’s braw… In pool and shallow; When, by the woodside, tall

In heavens of riveted blue, that s… With glaucous flame, deep in the w… Stands Midas-like; or, wading on… Touches with splendor all the twil… Each cloud that, like a stepping-s…

‘I rode to death, for I fought fo… The Lady Maurine of noble name, ’The fair and faithless!-Though l… Is love the wiser?-Love made song ‘Of all my life; and the soul that…

It’s a long, long way to the count… I wade and splash in the creek; And a long, long way to the Fernc… The Fair where I was last week: It’s a long, long way to the end o…

What were this life without her? Joy, whose young face is sweet With dreams that flit about her, And rapture wild of feet! With hope, that knows no languor,