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…

Here is a tale for sportsmen when… There was a boar, like that Atala… Who gorged and snored and, unmoles… His fat way through the world as s… Huge-jowled and paunched and porci…

Oh, I am going home again, Back to the old house in the lane, And mother! who still sits and sew… With cheeks, each one, a winter ro… A-watching for her boy, you know,

The partridge-berry flecks with fl… That leads to ferny hollows where… Drones on the aster. Far away the… Points its deep sapphire with a gl… Here from this height where, clust…

All the poppies in their beds Nodding crumpled crimson heads; And the larkspurs, in whose ears Twilight hangs, like twinkling tea… Sleepy jewels of the rain;

Under mossy oak and pine Whispering falls the fountained st… In its pool the lilies shine Silvery, each a moonlight gleam. Roses bloom and roses die

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…

ONE blossoming rose-tree, like a… Nursed in a broken mind, that wait… Survives, though shattered, and ab… The strangling dodder streams. Gaunt weeds: and here a bayonet or…

He rode adown the autumn wood, A man dark-eyed and brown; A mountain girl before him stood Clad in a homespun gown. ‘To ride this road is death for yo…

White moons may come, white moons… She sleeps where early blossoms bl… Knows nothing of the leafy June, That leans above her night and noo… Crowned now with sunbeam, now with…

She mutters and stoops by the lone… The little green leaves are hushed… An owl in an oak cries’Who-oh-who… And a fox barks back where the moo… The moss that sways to a sudden br…

THE season of the rose and peace… It could not last. There’s heartbreak in the hills an… Of sorrow in the rain-lashed plain… While Earth regards, aghast,

He makes a roadway of the crumblin… Or on the fallen tree,-brown as a… Fall stripes with russet,-gambols… Green twilight of the woods. We s… He comes, nor whither (in a time s…

I saw the spirit of the pines that… With spirits of the ocean and the… Against the tumult rose its tatter… Wild rain and darkness round it li… Fearful it stood, limbed like some…

There was once a little boy— So my father told me—who Never cared for any toy, But just sweet things, as boys do, Cakes and comfits, cream and ice,