I climbed a forest path and found A dim cave in the dripping ground, Where dwelt the spirit of cool sou… Who wrought with crystal triangles… And hollowed foam of rippled bells…

COME, let’s climb into our attic… In our house that’s old and gray! Life, you’re old and I’m rheumati… And—it’s close of day. Lay aside your rags and tatters,

Mother of visions, with lineaments… Breathed on the eyelids of love by… Secretly, sweetly, O presence of… Thou comest mysterious, In beauty imperious,

The memory of what we’ve lost Is with us more than what we’ve wo… Perhaps because we count the cost By what we could, yet have not don… ‘Twixt act and purpose fate hath d…

Her heart is still and leaps no mo… With holy passion when the breeze, Her whilom playmate, as before, Comes with the language of the bee… Sad songs her mountain cedars sing…

Where hast thou folded thy pinions… Spirit of Dreams? Hidden elusive garments Woven of gleams? In what divine dominions,

It’s ‘Gallop and go!’ and ‘Slow,… With every man in this life below But the things of this world are a… The postchaise Time that all must… Is old with clay and dust;

A lonely barn, lost in a field of… A fallen fence, where partly hangs… The skies are darkening and the ho… The Indian dusk comes, red in rai… Along a path, which from a woodlan…

BEFORE the rain, low in the obs… Weak and morose the moon hung, sic… Around its disc the storm mists, c… Wove an enormous web, wherein it l… Like some white spider hungry for…

A RIVER binds the lonely land, A river like a silver band, To crags and shores of yellow sand… It is a place where kildees cry, And endless marshes eastward lie,

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…

Friend, for the sake of loves we h… The love of books, of paintings, r… And for the sake of that divine af… The love of art, passing the love… By which all life’s made nobler, s…

An Ode to be read on the laying o… stone of the new Oglethorpe Unive… January, 1915, at Atlanta, Georgia AS when with oldtime passion for…

The day is dead; and in the west The slender crescent of the moon Diana’s crystal-kindled crest Sinks hillward in a silvery swoon. What is the murmur in the dell?

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