The earth that made the rose, She also is thy mother, and not I… The flame wherewith thy maiden spi… Was lighted at no hearth that I s… I am as far below as heaven above…

O LET me be in loving nice, Dainty, fine, and o’er precise, That I may charm my charmàd dear As tho’ I felt a secret fear To lose what never can be lost,—

When wintry winds are no more hear… And joy’s in every bosom, When summer sings in every bird, And shines in every blossom, When happy twilight hours are long…

|WE were young, we were merry, we… And the door stood open at our fea… When there passed us a woman with… And a man with his back to the Ea… O, still grew the hearts that were…

Country roads are yellow and brown… We mend the roads in London town. Never a hansom dare come nigh, Never a cart goes rolling by. An unwonted silence steals

Through the sunny garden The humming bees are still; The fir climbs the heather, The heather climbs the hill. The low clouds have riven

None ever was in love with me but… She wooed my from the day that I… She stole my playthings first, the… And left me there forlorn. The birds that in my garden would…

I ask of thee, love, nothing but r… Thou canst not bring the old days… For I was happy then, Not knowing heavenly joy, not know…

I sat before my glass one day, And conjured up a vision bare, Unlike the aspects glad and gay, That erst were found reflected the… The vision of a woman, wild

There’s no smoke in the chimney, And the rain beats on the floor; There’s no glass in the window, There’s no wood in the door; The heather grows behind the house…

When my love did what I would not… I could hear his merry voice upon… Crying, “e;Fairest, shut your eye… Love is blind!” When my love said what I say not,…

Egypt’s might is tumbled down Down a-down the deeps of though; Greece is fallen and Troy town, Glorious Rome hath lost her crown… Venice’ pride is nought.

We are not near enough to love, I can but pity all your woe; For wealth has lifted me above, And falsehood set you down below. If you were true, we still might b…

On alien ground, breathing an alie… A Roman stood, far from his ancie… And gazing, murmured, ‘Ah, the hills are fair,
But not… Descendant of a race to Romans-ki…

Sunshine let it be or frost, Storm or calm, as Thou shalt choo… Though Thine every gift were lost… Thee Thyself we could not lose.