The slender snail clings to the le… Gray on its silvered underside; And slowly, slowlier than the snai… Bright steps, whose ripening touch… Her warm hands berry-dyed,

January Shaggy with skins of frost-furred… Harsh, hoary hair framing a bitter… He bends above the dead Year’s fi… Nursing the last few embers of its…

I look about me, and behold How all is changed: The sound and… The kind, the true, the hale and o… That once made strong the features… Of life, are cast in other mold,

I, who went at nightfall, came aga… On Love’s door again I knocked.… He who oft had bade me in, now wou… Silence sat within his house; barr… When the slow door opened wide thr…

The deep seclusion of this forest… O’er which the green boughs weave… Along which bluet and anemone Spread dim a carpet; where the Tw… Her cool abode; and, sweet as afte…

Little leaves, that lean your ears From each branch and bough of spri… What is that your rapture hears? Song of bird or flight of wing, All so eager, little ears?

Masks Death rides black-masked to-night;… Madness beside him brandishes a to… The peaceful farmhouse with its vi… Lies in their way. Death lifts a…

Once a charcoal wagon passed, And an old black charcoalman, ‘Blacker than a midnight blast,’ Mother said. And he began Crying, ‘Charcoal! charcoal!

Little boy sleepy won’t go to bed, Though the Sand Man came an hour… And sand all under his eyelids spr… Though his eyes are heavy and heav… And his little tired feet seem mad…

When I go forth to greet the glad… Just at the time of opening apple-… When brooks are laughing, winds ar… On babbling hillsides or in warbli… There is an unseen presence that e…

Non numero horas nisi serenas When Fall drowns morns in mist, i… In soul I am a part of it; A portion of its humid beams, A form of fog, I seem to flit

Morning Her rain-kissed face is fresh as r… Is cool and fresh as a rain-wet le… She glimmers at my window-pane, And all my grief

In the frail hepaticas,- That the early Springtide tossed, Sapphire-like, along the ways Of the woodlands that she crossed,… I behold, with other eyes,

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…

Here is a tale for uncles and old… There was a man once who denied th… Yet in the world saw nothing else… A pessimist, with face as sour as… Still people praised him; men he l…