When April comes, and pelts with… And apple-blooms each orchard spac… And takes the dog-wood-whitened wo… With rain and sunshine of her mood… Like your fair face, like your fai…

The cuckoo-sorrel paints with pink The green page of the meadow-land Around a pool where thrushes drink As from a hollowed hand. A hill, long-haired with leathered…

At midnight in the trysting wood I wandered by the waterside, When, soft as mist, before me stoo… My sweetheart who had died. But so unchanged was she, meseemed

Under rocks whereon the rose Like a streak of morning glows; Where the azure-throated newt Drowses on the twisted root; And the brown bees, humming homewa…

Hearts, that have cheered us ever,… With words that helped us on the r… The hard, long road of life to who… More than the heart can ever hope… Are they not touchstones, soul-tra…

Sometimes, when I’m gone to-bed, And it’s all dark in the room, Seems I hear somebody tread Heavy, rustling through the gloom: And then something there goes ‘boo…

THE black night showed its hungry… And gnawed with sleet at roof and… Beneath the door I heard it breat… A beast that growled in vain. The hunter wind stalked up and dow…

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…

She stood among the longest ferns The valley held; and in her hand One blossom, like the light that b… Vermilion o’er a sunset land; And round her hair a twisted band

Spare us our Dreams, O God! The… When we were children and dwelt ne… Of Faery, which our Childhood oft… To reach, beholding where its towe… The dream our Youth put seaward w…

The sun set late; and left along t… A belt of furious ruby, o’er which… Of clouds unrolled; each cloud a m… Blooming with almond-rose. The sun set late; and wafts of win…

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

Once I gave a 'poppa-show’: And I had the greatest fun! Every boy and girl I know That is, nearly every one, Came to see it: I just put

Their only thought religion, What Christmas joys had they, The stern, staunch Pilgrim Father… Knew naught of holiday? A log-church in the clearing

A RIVER binds the lonely land, A river like a silver band, To crags and shores of yellow sand… It is a place where kildees cry, And endless marshes eastward lie,