A grey, bald hillside, bristling h… With leprous-looking grass, that,… Slopes to a valley where a wild st… And every bush seems tortured to d… And shows its teeth of thorns as i…

O roads, O paths, O ways that lea… Through woods where all the oak-tr… With autumn! and the frosty reds Of fallen leaves make whispering b… For winds to toss and turn upon,

The source of laughter lies so nea… And pain to rapture, that one foun… From forth the two Love’s; in who… The image of the Heaven each man…

Clouds of the autumn night, Under the hunter’s moon, Ghostly and windy white, Whither, like leaves wild strewn, Take ye your stormy flight?

Where are they, that song and tale Tell of? lands our childhood knew? Sea-locked Faerylands that trail Morning summits, dim with dew, Crimson o’er a crimson sail.

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

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…

Bald, with old eyes a blood-shot b… Into the Boar’s-Head Inn: the ho… His fulvous face, and all his raim… Of all the stews and all the East… Upon the battered board again he d…

Not here, O belovéd! not here let… Out there where the storm can enfo… Its breast, that is rainy and cool… In the luminous night of’ the wood… Not here, O belovéd! not here! bu…

Dark, drear, and drizzly, with vap… The day goes dully unto its close; Its wet robe smutches each thing i… Its fingers sully and wreck the ro… Around the railing and garden-pali…

Sweet lies! the sweetest ever hear… To her he said: Her heart remembers every word Now he is dead. I ask:' If thus his lies can make

She stood among the longest ferns The valley held; and in her hand One blossom, like the light that b… Vermilion o’er a sunset land; And round her hair a twisted band

There is a little girl I know Who takes her time to come and go. If you should ask her please to hu… She tries her best then to be slow… She gives her parents lots of worr…

Come, walk with me and Memory; And let us see what we shall see: A wild green lane of stones and we… That to a wilder woodland leads. An old board gate, the lichens cru…

The bubbled blue of morning-glory… Balloon-blown foam of moonflowers,… Of clematis, through which Septem… Song-hearted, rich in realized des… Are flanked by hotter hues: by taw…