Passion? not hers! who held me wit… One hand among the deep curls of h… I drank the girlhood of her gaze w… She never sighed, nor gave me kiss… So have I seen a clear October po…

There is nothing that eases my hea… As the wind that blows from the pu… ’Tis a hand of balsam whose healin… Unburdens my bosom of ills. There is nothing that causes my so…

Do you know the way that goes Over fields of rue and rose, Warm of scent and hot of hue, Roofed with heaven’s bluest blue, To the Vale of Dreams Come True?

Above lone woodland ways that led To dells the stealthy twilights tr… The west was hot geranium red; And still, and still, Along old lanes the locusts sow

When Lydia smiles, I seem to see The walls around me fade and flee; And, lo, in haunts of hart and hin… I seem with lovely Rosalind, In Arden 'neath the greenwood tre…

IN her vast church of glimmering… Gray-stoled from feet to chin, Her dark locks beaded with the dew… The nun-like dawn comes in: At once the hills put on their spe…

Here is a tale for workmen and the… There was a torrent once that down… Flashed its resistless way; a foam… Basaltic-built, ‘twixt cataract-he… Down from its eagle eyrie nearer,…

How shall it be with them that day When God demands of Earth His pa… With them who make a god of clay And gold and put all truth away. Shall not they see the lightning-r…

The white moth-mullein brushed its… Cool, faery flowers against his kn… In places where the way lay dim The branches, arching suddenly, Made tomblike mystery for him.

There’s a story no one knows, But myself, about a rose And a fairy and a star Where the Toyland people are. Once when I had gone to bed,

Nevermore at doorways that are bar… Shall the madcap wind knock and th… Nor the circle which thou once did… Shine with footsteps of the neighb… Visitors for whom thou oft didst h…

The melancholy of the woods and pl… When summer nears its close; the d… Unfathomed sadness of the mists th… About the valleys after night-long… The humming garden, with it tawny…

Tattered, in ragged raiment of the… The Night arrives. Outside the wi… He stands and, streaming, taps upo… Or, crouching down beside the cell… Letting his hat-brim drain,

All were in league to capture Lov… The rock, the stream, the tree; The very Month was leader of The whole conspiracy. It led Love where wild waters met…

Between the rose’s and the canna’s… Beneath her window in the night I… The jeweled dew hangs little stars… The white moonflowers each a spiri… That points the path to mystic sha…