How often hope’s fair flower bloom… The soul was fertilized with black…

Let me forget her face! So fresh, so lovely! the abiding p… Of tears and smiles that won my he… Of dreams and moods that moved my… As strong winds stir

First of the insect choir, in the… We hear his faint voice fluttering… Beneath some blossom’s rosy coveri… Or frond of fern upon a wildwood p… When in the marsh, in clamorous or…

There is a place (I know it well) Where beech trees crowd into a glo… And where a twinkling woodland wel… Flings from a rock a rippling plum… And, like a Faun beneath a spell,

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,

Miranda-like, above the world she… The wand of Prospero; and, beauti… Ariel the airy, Caliban the dull, Lightning and steam, are her unwil…

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…

There is no joy of earth that thri… My bosom like the far-off hills! Th’ unchanging hills, that, shadow… Beckon our mutability To follow and to gaze upon

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

I HEARD a Spirit singing as, be… Its radiant form went swinging lik… In its song prophetic voices mixed… As when, loud, the World rejoices… And it said:

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…

Three memories hold us ever With longing and with pain; Three memories Time has never Been able to restrain; That in each life remain

Why have you come? to see me in my… A thing to spit on, to despise and… And then to ask me! You, by whom… And then cast by, like some vile r… What shelter could you give me, no…

When my mother is n’t here, And I just won’t go to bed, And it’s cold outside and near Christmas; and the kitchen-shed ‘S covered thick with frost and sn…

When in the pansy-purpled stain Of sunset one far star is seen, Like some bright dropp of rain, Out of the forest, deep and green, O’er me at Spirit seems to lean,