Those were the days of doubt. How… It all comes back! This ribbon, s… Brings that far past so very near I lose my own identity, And seem two beings: one that’s he…

The acorn-oak Sullens to sombre crimson all its… And where it hugely heaves A giant head dark as congested blo… The gum-tree towers, against the s…

An agate-black, your roguish eyes Claim no proud lineage of the skie… No starry blue; but of good earth The reckless witchery and mirth. Looped in your raven hair’s repose…

What magic through your snowy crys… Your hollow spar, Spring brims wi… That, like the cup of Comus, drug… This woodland place, so drowsed wi… What miracle evolved you from the…

THE sunset was a sleepy gold, And stars were in the skies When down a weedy lane he strolled In vague and thoughtless wise. And then he saw it, near a wood,

The old gate clicks, and down the… Between clove-pink and hollyhock, Still young of face though gray of… Among her garden’s flowers she goe… At evening’s close,

White roses, like a mist Upon a terraced height, And 'mid the roses, opal, moonbeam… A fountain falling white. And as the full moon flows,

Meseemed that while she played, wh… Her fingers fell, as roses bloom b… I listened dead within a mighty ro… Of some old palace where great cas… Gaunt moonlight in, that glimpsed…

‘These winter days,’ my father say… ‘When mornings blow and bite and f… And hens sit cackling in the straw… Stiff with the frost as gates that… Remind me of my youth when, raw,

Here is the place where Lovelines… Between the river and the wooded h… Within a valley where the Springt… Her firstling wind-flowers under b… Where Summer sits braiding her wa…

Devil’s Race-Horse seems to me Strangest thing I ever saw: Up in our old maple-tree They’re at home; stand rearingly, Lean of neck and long of claw.

Deep in the wood of willow-trees The summer sounds and whispering b… Bound me as if with glimmering arm… And spells of witchcraft, sorcerie… That filled the wood with phantom…

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…

Those unrequited in their love who… Have never drained life’s chief il…

About the time when bluebells swin… Their elfin belfries for the bee And in the fragrant House of Spri… Wild Music moves; and Fantasy Sits weaving webs of witchery: