Over the roar of cities, Over the hush of the hills, Mounts ever a song that never stop… A voice that never stills. Epic-loud as the sea is,

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…

Wrapped round of the night, as a m… Down, down through vast storeys of… Of the heaven, the thunder! on sta… Colossal of tread, like a giant, f… Goes striding in rattling armor...

Man’s are the learnings of his boo… What is all knowledge that he know… Beside the wit of winding brooks, The wisdom of the summer rose! How soil distills the scent in flo…

THE moon, a circle of gold, O’er the crowded housetops rolled, And peeped in an attic, where, ‘Mid sordid things and bare, A sick child lay and gazed

They are the wise who look before, Nor fear to look behind; Who in the darkness still ignore Pale shadows of the mind. Who, having lost, though loss be m…

I HAD forgot how, in my day The Sabine fields around me lay In amaranth and asphodel, With many a cold Bandusian well Bright-bubbling by the mountain-wa…

All things are wrought of melody, Unheard, yet full of speaking spel… Within the rock, within the tree, A soul of music dwells. A mute symphonic sense that thrill…

Briar and fennel and chinquapin, And rue and ragweed everywhere; The field seemed sick as a soul wi… Or dead of an old despair, Born of an ancient care.

‘T is n’t long till Christmas now… First thing that you’ll know, it’s… Nurse can tell it, don’t know how, By the smell o’ th’ atmosphere, Shivery and never clear.

Dweller in hollow places, hills an… Daughter of Silence and old Solit… Tip-toe she stands within her cave… Her only life the noises that she…

Summer evenings, when it’s warm, In the yard we sit and swing: And it’s better than a farm, Watching how the fireflies swarm, Listening to the crickets sing,

There’s a boy who lives next door; And this boy is just as bad As a boy can be; and poor! He’s so poor it makes me sad When I see him. Out at knee;

Let us mix a cup of Joy That the wretched may employ, Whom the Fates have made their to… Who have given brain and heart To the thankless world of Art,

The hush of death is on the night.… That loves to whisper to the wind;… That dance with it, are silent: on… No motion mid the fields, as dry a… What light is that? It cannot be…