Once I was part of the music I he… On the boughs or sweet between ear… For joy of the beating of wings on… My heart shot into the breast of t… I hear it now and I see it fly,

O briar-scents, on yon wet wing Of warm South-west wind brushing… You mind me of the sweetest thing That ever mingled frank and shy: When she and I, by love enticed,

Now the frog, all lean and weak, Yawning from his famished sleep, Water in the ditch doth seek, Fast as he can stretch and leap: Marshy king-cups burning near

The clouds are withdrawn And their thin-rippled mist, That stream’d o’er the lawn To the drowsy-eyed west. Cold and grey

Love within the lover’s breast Burns like Hesper in the west, O’er the ashes of the sun, Till the day and night are done; Then when dawn drives up her car -

With Life and Death I walked whe… And made them on each side a shado… Through wooded vales the land of d… Where down smooth rapids whirls th… To fall on daylight; and night put…

Not vainly doth the earnest voice… Call for the thing that is his pur… Fame is the birthright of the livi… To noble impulse Nature puts no b… Nor vainly to the Sphinx thy voic…

On my darling’s bosom Has dropped a living rosy bud, Fair as brilliant Hesper Against the brimming flood. She handles him,

Our Islet out of Helgoland, dismi… From his quaint tenement, quits ha… There lived with us a wagging humo… In that hound’s arch dwarf-legged…

MARK where the pressing wind sho… Its skeleton shadow on the broad-b… Here is a fitting spot to dig Lov… Here where the ponderous breakers… And dart their hissing tongues hig…

The daisy now is out upon the gree… And in the grassy lanes The child of April rains, The sweet fresh-hearted violet, is… Along the brooks and meads, the da…

There she goes up the street with… And her Good morning, Martin! Ay… Very well, thank you, Martin!-I c… I might just as well never have co… I can’t understand it. She talks…

See’st thou a Skylark whose glist… Quiver like pulses beneath the mel… Deep in the heart—yearning distanc… Wisdom and beauty and love are the…

Of me and of my theme think what t… The song of gladness one straight… But I have never stood at Fortune… Were she and her light crew to run… At my poor holding little would be…

Earth was not Earth before her so… Nor Beauty Beauty ere young Love… And thou when I lay hidden wast a… At city-windows, touching eyelids… To none by her fresh wingedness en…