GREEN, watery jets of light let… The rippling foliage drenched with… And golden glimmers, warm and dim, That in the vistaed distance swim; Where, 'round the wood-spring’s oo…

No more to strip the roses from The rose-boughs of her porch’s pla… I dreamed last night that I was h… Beside a rose her face. I must have smiled in sleep who kn…

THE woods stretch wild to the mou… And the brush is deep where a man… They have brought the bloodhounds… To the roadside rock where they fo… They have brought the bloodhounds…

We tightened stirrup; buckled rein… Looked to our saddle-girths again; Shook hands all round; then mounte… The gate swung wide: we said, ‘Go… No time for talk had Bell and I.

The dogs made way for him and snar… And little children to their paren… Big-eyed with fear, when, gruff of… Bent-backed he passed who had the… In old drab coat and trousers, sho…

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…

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…

So we had come at last, my soul an… Into that land of shadowy plain an… On which the dawn seemed ever abou… On which the day seemed ever about… Long had we sought fulfillment of…

This is the tomboy month of all th… March, who comes shouting o’er the… Waking the world with laughter, as… Or wild halloos, a windflower in h… She stops a moment by the half-tha…

Woods of wonder, wonder ways, Where the Faery Piper plays, Bidding all to up and follow Over haunted hill and hollow, And behold again the Fays

First of the insect choir, in the… We hear his faint voice fluttering… Beneath some blossom’s rosy coveri… Or frond of fern upon a wildwood p… When in the marsh, in clamorous or…

Be of good cheer, and have no fear Of Fortune or Tomorrow: To Hope’s low whisper lend an ear And turn away from Sorrow. Time out of mind the soul is blind

Youth, with an arrogant air, Passes me by: Age, on his tottering staff, Stops with a sigh. ‘Here is a flower, ’he says,

Sunlight and shrill cicada and the… Slow, sleepy kissing of the sea an… And rumor of the wind. The mornin… A sullen face of fog that lifted s… Letting her eyes gleam through of…

A Log-Hut in the solitude, A clapboard roof to rest beneath! This side, the shadow-haunted wood… That side, the sunlight-haunted he… At daybreak Morn shall come to me