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

Between the death of day and birth… By War’s red light, I met with one in trailing sorrows… Whose features had The look of Him who died to set m…

A mile of moonlight and the whispe… A mile of shadow and the odorous l… One large, white star above the so… Like one sweet wish: and, laughter… Wild-roses wistful in a web of rai…

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,…

The beauty of the day put joy, Unbounded, in the woodland’s breas… Through which the wind, like some… Ran on and took no rest. The little stream that made its ho…

Rain will fall on the fading flowe… Winds will blow through the drippi… When Fall leads in her tattered H… With Death to keep them company. All night long in the weeping weat…

She was a queen. 'Midst mutes and… A mameluke, he loved her.—Waves Dashed not more hopelessly the pav… Of her high marble palace-stair Than lashed his love his heart’s d…

There in the past I see her as of… Blue-eyed and hazel-haired, within… Dim with a twilight of tenebrious… Her white face sensuous as a delic… Night opens in the tropics. Fold…

Fortune may pass us by: Follow her flying feet. Love, all we ask, deny: Never admit defeat. Take heart again and try.

Summer met Sleep at sunset, Dreaming within the south, Drugged with his soul’s deep slumb… Red with her heart’s hot drouth, These are the drowsy kisses

He waited till within her tower Her taper signalled him the hour. He was a prince both fair and brav… What hope that he would love her s… He of the Persian dynasty;

There was a man rode into town one… Barefooted, hatless, and without a… It was the dead of winter. Round… Were marks of violence: bits and w… Bristled his beard and hair. From…

Would I could talk as the flowers… To my soul! and the stars, in thei… Through Heaven! and tell to the h… The things that they say, so all m… The dreams they dream, and have to…

The day, all fierce with carmine,… An Indian face towards Earth and… The west, like some gaunt vase, in… Its ashes under smouldering skies, Athwart whose bowl one red cloud s…

The roses mourn for her who sleeps Within the tomb; For her each lily-flower weeps Dew and perfume. In each neglected flower-bed