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…

Low, swallow-swept and gray, Between the orchard and the spring… All its wide windows overflowing h… And crannied doors a-swing, The old barn stands to-day.

‘T was Fiddledeedee who put to se… With a rollicking buccaneer Bumbl… An acorn-cup was their hollow boat A rakish craft was their acorn-boa… And their sail a butterfly’s wing;

A beardless crew we launched our l… Laughed at its lightness; joyed to… Veer in the wind, and, with the fr… Bend o’er the foaming prow the swo… No fears were ours within that sta…

Once I gave a 'poppa-show’: And I had the greatest fun! Every boy and girl I know That is, nearly every one, Came to see it: I just put

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…

This is the heart’s own day: With dreaming eyes Life seems to look away Beyond the skies Into some long-gone May.

Let us go far from here! Here there is sadness in the early… Here sorrow waits where joy went l… The sicklied face of heaven hangs… Above the woodland and the meadowl…

‘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.

Frail, shrunken face, so pinched a… That life has carved with care and… So weary waiting, night and morn, For that which never came about! Pale lamp, so utterly forlorn,

A friend for you and a friend for… A friend to understand; To cheer the way and help the day With heart as well as hand: With heart as well as hand, my dea…

Again, in dreams, the veteran hear… The bugle and the drum; Again the boom of battle nears, Again the bullets hum: Again he mounts, again he cheers,

What were this life without her? Joy, whose young face is sweet With dreams that flit about her, And rapture wild of feet! With hope, that knows no languor,

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…

A Sea of onyx are the skies, Cloud-islanded with fire; Such nacre-colored flame as dyes A sea-shell’s rosy spire; And at its edge one star sinks slo…