I chanced upon an early walk to sp… A troop of children through an orc… The boughs hung low, the grass was… They had but to lift hands or wait For fruits to fill them; fruits we…

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…

Maimed, beggared, grey; seeking an… Of palsy doing task of thanks for… Upon the stature of a God, He whom the Gods have struck bend… Weak words he has, that slip the n…

To sit on History in an easy chai… Still rivalling the wild hordes by… Sure, this beseems a race of lagga… Unwarned by those plain letters sc… If more than hands’ and armsful be…

(The Death Of Robert Browning) Now dumb is he who waked the world… And voiceless hangs the world besi… Our words are sobs, our cry of pra… We are the smitten mortal, we the…

Between the fountain and the rill I passed, and saw the mighty will To leap at sky; the careless run, As earth would lead her little son… Beneath them throbs an urgent well…

‘Heigh, boys!’ cried Grandfather… He lifted the crumpled letter, and… Up jumped all the echoing young on… Said, 'Father, before we make noi… The old man glared at him harshly,…

Flowers of the willow-herb are woo… Flowers of the briar berries red; Speeding their seed as the breeze… Flowers of the thistle loosen the… Flowers of the clematis drip in be…

What are we first? First, animals… Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of th… And all that draweth on the tomb f… Into which state comes Love, the…

A brook glancing under green leave… And full of a gurgling melody ever… Renewed thro’ all changes of Heav… Unceasing in moonlight, but hushed…

’Tis Christmas weather, and a cou… Receives us: rooms are full: we ca… An attic-crib. Such lovers will n… At that, it is half-said. The gre… Knocks hard upon the midnight’s ho…

The old grey Alp has caught the c… And the torrent river sings aloud; The glacier-green Rosanna sings An organ song of its upper springs… Foaming under the tiers of pine,

Whate’er I be, old England is my… So there’s my answer to the judges… I’m nothing of a fox, nor of a lam… I don’t know how to bleat nor how… I’m for the nation!

He leaped. With none to hinder, Of Aetna’s fiery scoriae In the next vomit-shower, made he A more peculiar cinder. And this great Doctor, can it be,

Out in the yellow meadows, where t… Hums by us with the honey of the… And showers of sweet notes from th… Are dropping like a noon-dew, wand… Or is it now? or was it then? for…