We have sent him seeds of the melo… And nailed a warning upon his door… By the Ku Klux laws we can do no… Down in the hollow, 'mid crib and… The roof of his low-porched house…

With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…

An evil, stealthy water, dark as h… Sunk from the light of day, ‘Thwart which is hung a ruined wat… Creeps on its stagnant way. Moss and the spawny duckweed, dim…

There was moonlight in the garden… There was scent of pink and peony… When adown the pathway whitely, wh… She came stepping, oh, so lightly, To the old gate made of pickets.

A Sea of onyx are the skies, Cloud-islanded with fire; Such nacre-colored flame as dyes A sea-shell’s rosy spire; And at its edge one star sinks slo…

Far in the purple valleys of illus… I see her waiting, like the soul o… With deep eyes, lovelier than ceru… Shadow and fire, yet merciless as… With red lips, sweeter than Arabi…

In the shadow of the beeches, Where the fragile wildflowers bloo… Where the pensive silence pleaches Green a roof of cool perfume, Have you felt an awe imperious

Through leafy windows of the trees The full moon shows a wrinkled fac… And, trailing dim her draperies Of mist from place to place, The Twilight leads the breeze.

When Lydia smiles, I seem to see The walls around me fade and flee; And, lo, in haunts of hart and hin… I seem with lovely Rosalind, In Arden 'neath the greenwood tre…

What would it mean for you and me If dawn should come no more! Think of its gold along the sea, Its rose above the shore! That rose of awful mystery,

I saw the daughters of the ocean d… With wind and tide, and heard them… White hands they waved me, tossing… Green as the light an emerald hold… Their music bound me as with necro…

She sits among the iris stalks Of babbling brooks; and leans for… Among the river’s lily flowers, Or on their whiteness walks: Above dark forest pools, gray rock…

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,

There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…

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