The gate, on ice-hoarse hinges, st… Croaks open; and harsh wagon-wheel… Creaking through cold; the horses’… Around their nostrils; and with sn… The hut is barely seen, from which…

Blow high, blow low! No longer borrow Care of tomorrow: Take joy of life, and let care go!

The golden discs of the rattlesnak… That spangle the woods and dance– No gleam of gold that the twilight… Is strong as their necromance: For, under the oaks where the wood…

Here is a tale for children and th… There was a fool, a man who’d had… But missed them, somehow; lost the… Tag-ends of things with which he’d… Of his cracked head, as panes are…

The locust gyres; the heat intensi… The rain-crow croaks from hot-leaf… The butterfly, a flame-fleck, aiml… Droops down the air and knows not… Beside the stream, whose bed in pl…

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…

They’ve torn the old house down, t… Like some kind mother, in this pla… Hugged by its orchard and its wood… Two sturdy children, strong of rac… This formal place makes no appeal.

The dim verbena drugs the dusk With lemon-heavy odours where The heliotropes breathe drowsy mus… Into the jasmine-dreamy air; The moss-rose bursts its dewy husk

An old lane, an old gate, an old h… A wild wood, a wild brook they wil… In boyhood I knew them, and still… Down deep in my heart’s core I he… Through tear-mists behold them ben…

Upon the summit of his Century He reared a Palace of enduring Ar… From whose wild windows never more… Beauty’s pale light and starry fan… Within is music, sobbing ceaseless…

From 'Beltenebros at Miraflores’ O sunset, from the springs of star… Draw down thy cataracts of gold; And belt their streams with burnin… Of ruby on which flame is rolled:

Here’s the tale my father told, Walking in the park one night, When the stars shone big and brigh… And the autumn wind blew cold: Once a giant lived of old

The vat-like cups of the fungus, f… With the rain that fell last night… Are casks of wine that the elves d… For revels the moon did light. The owlet there with her ‘Who-oh-…

His Birthday, October the 7th, 19… RILEY, whose pen has made the wo… Whose Art has kept you young thro… Brimming our hearts with laughter… Holding her faith pure to the very…

Squat-nosed and broad, of big and… A tavern visage, apoplexy haunts, All pimple-puffed: the Falstaff-l… Of fat debauchery, whose veined ch… A flabby purple: rusty-spurred he…