The path that winds by wood and st… Is not the path for me to-day; The path I take is one of dream, That leads me down a twilight way. By towns, where myths have only be…

You, who are met to remember Kentucky and give her praise; Who have warmed your hearts at the… Of her love for many days! Be faithful to your mother,

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,

There is no Paradise like that wh… Deep in the heavens of her azure e… There is no Eden here on Earth th… Like that which smiles rich in her…

In some quaint Nurnberg maler-atelier Uprummaged. When and where was ne… Nor yet how he obtained it. When,… ’Twas painted-who shall say? itsel…

To me all beauty that I see Is melody made visible: An earth-translated state, may be, Of music heard in Heaven or Hell. Out of some love-impassioned strai…

She passed the thorn-trees, whose… Their spider-shadows round her; an… Beneath the ashen moon, was full o… And mouthed and mumbled to the sic… Like some starved hag who sees her…

From 'One Day and Another’ What little things are those That hold our happiness! A smile, a glance, a rose Dropped from her hair or dress;

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…

Can one resolve and hunt it from o… This love, this god and fiend, tha… Of many a life, in ways no tongue… No mind divine, nor any word impar… Would not one think the slights th…

The burden of the sometime years, That once my soul did overweigh, Falls from me, with its griefs and… When gazing in thine eyes of gray; Wherein, behold, like some bright…

Where are they, that song and tale Tell of? lands our childhood knew? Sea-locked Faerylands that trail Morning summits, dim with dew, Crimson o’er a crimson sail.

The memory of what we’ve lost Is with us more than what we’ve wo… Perhaps because we count the cost By what we could, yet have not don… ‘Twixt act and purpose fate hath d…

Dormered and verandaed, cool, Locust-girdled, on the hill; Stained with weather—wear, and dul… Streak’d with lichens; every sill Thresholding the beautiful;

All day the primroses have thought… Their golden heads close-haremed f… All day the mystic moonflowers sil… Veiled snowy faces, that no bee mi… Or butterfly that, weighed with po…