Above her, pearl and rose the heav… Around her, flowers scattered eart… Or down the path in insolence held… Like cavaliers who ride the elves’… Scarlet and blue, within a garden…

With her 't is well now. She died… With all her hope and faith unmarr… Nor lived to see the pearls, Love… Without regard, Cast, lost among

He was not learned in any art; But Nature led him by the hand; And spoke her language to his hear… So he could hear and understand: He loved her simply as a child;

There is a music of immaculate lov… That beats within the virgin veins… And trillium blossoms, like the st… To fairies’ wands; and, strung on… White-hearts and mandrake blooms t…

‘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.

I. SPRING ON THE HILLS Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow,

All night I lay upon the rocks: And now the dawn comes up this way… One great star trembling in her lo… Of rosy ray. I can not tell the things I’ve se…

THERE a tattered marigold And dead asters manifold, Showed him where the garden old Of time bloomed: Briar and thistle overgrew

I cannot tell what I would tell t… What I would say, what thou shoul… Words of the soul that should comp… Words of the heart to draw thee ne… For when thou smilest, thou, who f…

A lily in a twilight place? A moonflow’r in the lonely night?— Strange beauty of a woman’s face Of wildflow’r-white! The rain that hangs a star’s green…

Athwart a sky of brass long welts… A path of gold the wide Ohio lies… Beneath the sunset, billowing mani… The dark-blue hilltops rise. And westward dips the crescent of…

There are some souls Whose lot it is to set their heart… That adverse Fate controls. While others win With little labor through life’s d…

The trees took on fantastic shapes That night when I came to the gra… The very bushes seemed to change; This seemed a hag’s head, that an… The road itself seemed darkly stra…

There is a path that leads Through purple iron-weeds, By button-bush and mallow Along a creek; A path that wildflowers hallow,

Not here, O belovéd! not here let… Out there where the storm can enfo… Its breast, that is rainy and cool… In the luminous night of’ the wood… Not here, O belovéd! not here! bu…