There is no Paradise like that wh… Deep in the heavens of her azure e… There is no Eden here on Earth th… Like that which smiles rich in her…

There’s nothing to do in the morni… Till it’s time to get up and dress… Till my nurse comes in to button a… And dress me more or less: Then it’s time to get up, get up,…

Why speak of Giamschid rubies Whence rosy starlight drips? I know a richer crimson, The ruby of her lips. Why speak of pearls of Oman

Thou art the music that I hear in… The poetry that lures me on in dre… The magic, thou, that holds my tho… Of young romance in revery’s mysti… The lily’s aura, and the damask de…

A Sense of something that is sad… Of something that is felt as death… As shadows, phantoms, in a haunted… Around me seems to melt. It rises, so it seems, from the de…

Summer evenings, when it’s warm, In the yard we sit and swing: And it’s better than a farm, Watching how the fireflies swarm, Listening to the crickets sing,

Once I found an ant-lion’s hole And an ant-lion in it: nippers Like a pair of rusty clippers. And I saw a red ant roll In its pit, and, quick as Ned,

The cut-throat darkness hemmed me… I waited, helpless in its grasp. The forest gave no sign or sound: The wind was dead: no insect’s ras… I heard, nor water’s gulp and gasp

He waited till within her tower Her taper signalled him the hour. He was a prince both fair and brav… What hope that he would love her s… He of the Persian dynasty;

Oh, I am going home again, Back to the old house in the lane, And mother! who still sits and sew… With cheeks, each one, a winter ro… A-watching for her boy, you know,

The rose of Hope, how rich and re… It blooms, and will bloom on, 't i… Since Eve, in Eden days gone by, Plucked it on Adam’s heart to lie… When out of Paradise they fled,

Here where the coves indent the sh… And fill with ebb and flowing of t… Whereon some barge rocks or some d… By which old orchards bloom, or, f… Pelt every lane with fruit; where…

Here is a tale for all who wish to… There was a thief who, in his cut-… Was hailed as chief; he had a way… Persuasion, masked, behind a weapo… That made it cockrow with each goo…

The drowsy day, with half-closed e… Dreams in this quaint forgotten st… That, like some old-world wreckage… Left by the sea’s receding beat, Far from the city’s restless feet.

It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stre… And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes