THE wind that met her in the park… Came hurrying to my side— It ran to me, it leapt to me, And nowhere would abide. It whispered in my ear a word,

Can freckled August,-drowsing war… Beside a wheat-shock in the white-… In her hot hair the yellow daisies… O bird of rain, lend aught but sle… To thee? when no plumed weed, no f…

THEY hold their own, they have n… In gloom and glow, in hopes and fe… In love and terror, hovering round The lore of that enchanted ground!… That mystic region, where one hear…

I heard the forest’s green heart b… As if it heard the happy feet Of one who came, like young Desir… At whose fair coming birds and flo… Sprang up, and Beauty, filled wit…

Here is a tale to tell to rich rel… There was a toad, a Calibanic mon… In whose squat head ambition had e… Most bloated jewel, dear to highes… He was received, though mottled as…

The melancholy of the woods and pl… When summer nears its close; the d… Unfathomed sadness of the mists th… About the valleys after night-long… The humming garden, with it tawny…

I saw the Summer through her gard… A marigold hung in her auburn hair… Her brown arms heaped with harvest… Of poppied plenty, like the peach… Among the pepper-pods, in scarlet…

Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hil… Between whose breezy vistas gulfs… Pilot great clouds like towering a… And hawk and buzzard breast the az… With many a foaming fall and glimm…

And the boy that lives next door Said to me one day, There’s more In those rhymes of Mother Goose And those tales, I don’t care who… Arabian Nights or Grimm’s, or, we…

It’s ‘Sweet, good-bye,’ when penn… And ships put out to sea; It’s a loving kiss, and a tear or… In an eye of brown or an eye of bl… And you’ll remember me,

It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stre… And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes

There’s something now that no one… That never seems to mind me Where is it that my shadow goes That often walks behind me? Where does it go when I come home…

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…

Magician he, who, autumn nights, Down from the starry heavens whirl… A harlequin in spangled tights, Whose wand’s touch carpets earth w… Through him each pane presents a s…

Why do I love you, who have never… My heart encouragement or any caus… Is it because, as earth is held of… Your soul holds mine by some myste… Perhaps, unseen of me, within your…