A rainless darkness drew o’er the… As we lay in our boat with oars un… It seemed neither cloud nor water… And forth of the low black curtain… Thunderless lightning. Scoff no m…

You like not that French novel? T… You think it quite unnatural. Let… The actors are, it seems, the usua… Husband, and wife, and lover. She… In England we’ll not hear of it.…

WHEN by Zeus relenting the manda…    Sentencing to exile the bright… Mindful were the ploughmen of who…    Who: and what a track show’d th… Mindful were the shepherds, as now…

I cannot lose thee for a day, But like a bird with restless wing My heart will find thee far away, And on thy bosom fall and sing, My nest is here, my rest is here;…

Not solitarily in fields we find Earth’s secret open, though one pa… Her plainest, such as children spe… With bird and beast; raised letter… Not where the troubled passions to…

With splendour of a silver day, A frosted night had opened May: And on that plumed and armoured ni… As one close temple hove our wood, Its border leafage virgin white.

When we have thrown off this old s… So much in need of mending, To sink among the naked mute, Is that, think you, our ending? We follow many, more we lead,

Within a Temple of the Toes, Where twirled the passionate Wili… I saw full many a market rose, And sighed for my village lily. With cynical Adrian then I took f…

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 -

And-'Yonder look! yoho! yoho! Nancy is off!' the farmer cried, Advancing by the river side, Red-kerchieft and brown-coated;-'… My girl, who else could leap like…

A roar thro’ the tall twin elm-tre… The mustering storm betrayed: The South-wind seized the willow That over the water swayed. Then fell the steady deluge

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,

Unhappy poets of a sunken prime! You to reviewers are as ball to ba… They shadow you with Homer, knock… With Shakespeare: bludgeons brain… On you the excommunicates of Rhym…

Thou to me art such a spring As the Arab seeks at eve, Thirsty from the shining sands; There to bathe his face and hands, While the sun is taking leave,