I must be flattered. The imperiou… Desire speaks out. Lady, I am con… To play with you the game of Sent… And with you enter on paths perilo… But if across your beauty I throw…

The hundred years have passed, and… Whose name appeased a nation’s fea… As with a hand laid over sea; To thunder through the foeman’s ea… Defeat before his blast of fire;

He felt the wild beast in him betw… So masterfully rude, that he would… To see the helpless delicate thing… His guardianship through certain d… Had he not teeth to rend, and hung…

The day that is the night of days, With cannon-fire for sun ablaze We spy from any billow’s lift; And England still this tidal drif… Would she to sainted forethought v…

When buds of palm do burst and spr… Their downy feathers in the lane, And orchard blossoms, white and re… Breathe Spring delight for Autumn… And the skylark shakes his wings i…

Not yet had History’s Aetna smoke… And low the Gallic Giantess lay e… While overhead in ordered set and… Her kingly crowns immutably defile… Effulgent on funereal piled

Under boughs of breathing May, In the mild spring-time I lay, Lonely, for I had no love; And the sweet birds all sang for p… Cuckoo, lark, and dove.

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;…

I would I were the drop of rain That falls into the dancing rill, For I should seek the river then, And roll below the wooded hill, Until I reached the sea.

The Snowdrop is the prophet of th… It lives and dies upon its bed of… And like a thought of spring it co… Hanging its head beside our leafle… The sun’s betrothing kiss it never…

We saw the swallows gathering in t… And in the osier-isle we heard the… We had not to look back on summer… Or forward to a summer of bright d… But in the largeness of the evenin…

It ended, and the morrow brought t… Her eyes were guilty gates, that l… By shutting all too zealous for th… Each sucked a secret, and each wor… But, oh, the bitter taste her beau…

It chanced his lips did meet her f… She had no blush, but slanted down… Shamed nature, then, confesses lov… And most she punishes the tender f… Who will believe what honours her…

Long with us, now she leaves us; s… Beneath our sacred sod: A woman vowed to Good, whom all a… The daylight gift of God.