Geraldine, Geraldine, Do you remember where The willows used to screen The water flowing fair? The mill-stream’s banks of green

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…

I. SPRING ON THE HILLS Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow,

Pale faces looked up at me, up fro… Pale hands reached down to me, out… As over the hills, robed on with t… The Day’s last Hours, departed, a… Pale fingers beckoned me on; pale…

Who knows the things they dream, a… Or feel, who lie beneath the groun… Perhaps the flowers, the leaves, a… That close them round. In spring the violets may spell

MASTER of human harmonies, wher… And harp and violin and flute acco… Each instrument confessing you its… Within the deathless orchestra of… Albeit at times your music may sou…

Old days, old ways, old homes besi… Old gardens with old-fashioned flo… Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many a flower of fragrant pedig… Old hills that glow with blue- and…

When the lily nods in slumber, And the roses all are sleeping; When the night hangs deep and umbe… And the stars their watch are keep… When the clematis uncloses

There is a world Life dreams of,… Invisible save only to the heart: That spreads its cloudy islands, w… Above the Earth,'mid oceans none… Far Faerylands, that have become…

A Broken rainbow on the skies of… Touching the dripping roses and lo… And in wet clouds its scattered gl… So in the sorrow of her soul the g… Of one great love, of iridescent r…

The path that winds by wood and st… Is not the path for me to-day; The path I take is one of dream, That leads me down a twilight way. By towns, where myths have only be…

There’s a little girl I know And we call her So-and-So. She is neither good nor bad Good enough for me although! Never saw a girl that had

I heard the toads and frogs last n… When snug in bed, and all was stil… I lay and listened there until It seemed a church where one, with… Was preaching high and very shrill…

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 hall in every house, Behind whose wainscot gnaws the mo… Along whose sides are empty rooms, Peopled with dreams and ancient do… When down this hall you take your…