What mines the morning heavens unf… What far Alaskas of the skies! That, veined with elemental gold, Sierra on Sierra rise. Heap up the gold of all the world,

A sense of sadness in the golden a… A pensiveness, that has no part in… As if the Season, by some woodlan… Braiding the early blossoms in her… Seeing her loveliness reflected th…

Along the road I smelt the rose, The wild-rose in its veil of rain; And how it was, God only knows, But with its scent I saw again A girl’s face at a window-pane,

SHUT it out of the heart—this gr… O Love, with the years grown old… And let in joy that life is brief, And give God thanks for the end o… The bond of the flesh is transitor…

Thou art the music that I hear in… The poetry that lures me on in dre… The magic, thou, that holds my tho… Of young romance in revery’s mysti… The lily’s aura, and the damask de…

Its rotting fence one scarcely see… Through sumac and wild blackberrie… Thick elder and the bramble-rose, Big ox-eyed daisies where the bees Hang droning in repose.

Yea, this is he, whose name is syn… Of all that’s noble, though but lo… Who took command upon a stormy mor… When few had hope. Although uncou… Homely of face and gaunt, but neve…

This is the truth as I see it, my… Out in the wind and the rain: They who have nothing have little… Nothing to lose or to gain. Here by the road at the end o’ the…

They who maintained their rights, Through storm and stress, And walked in all the ways That God made known, Led by no wandering lights,

The night has set her outposts the… Of wind and rain; And to and fro, with ragged hair, At intervals they search the pane. The fir-trees, creepers redly clim…

The west builds high a sepulcher Of cloudy granite and of gold, Where twilight’s priestly hours in… The Day like some great king of o… A censer, rimmed with silver fire,

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…

WITH her fair face she made my h… Beneath whose stars and moon and s… I worshiped, praying, having striv… For wealth through which she might… And yet she had no soul: A woman

This is the place where visions co… Dreams of the trees and flowers, g… Where the white moon and the pale… Sitting with Legend and with dim… This is the place where all the si…

Why speak of Giamschid rubies Whence rosy starlight drips? I know a richer crimson, The ruby of her lips. Why speak of pearls of Oman