An omnibus across the bridge Crawls like a yellow butterfly, And, here and therem a passer—by Shows like a little restless midge… Big barges full of yellow hay

O singer of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily? Still through the ivy flits the be… Where Amaryllis lies in state;

Rome! what a scroll of History th… In the first days thy sword republ… Ruled the whole world for many an… Then of thy peoples thou wert crow… Till in thy streets the bearded G…

He did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his han… When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom he loved,

It is full summer now, the heart o… Not yet the sun—burnt reapers are… Upon the upland meadow where too s… Rich autumn time, the season’s usu… Will lend his hoarded gold to all…

To my friend George Fleming autho… ‘Mirage’) A year ago I breathed the Italian… And yet, methinks this northern S… These fields made golden with the…

The silver trumpets rang across th… The people knelt upon the ground w… And borne upon the necks of men I… Like some great God, the Holy Lo… Priest—like, he wore a robe more w…

The oleander on the wall Grows crimson in the dawning light… Though the grey shadows of the nig… Lie yet on Florence like a pall. The dew is bright upon the hill,

This English Thames is holier far… Those harebells like a sudden flus… Breaking across the woodland, with… Of meadow—sweet and white anemone To fleck their blue waves,—God is…

The Thames nocturne of blue and g… Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre—coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill an… The yellow fog came creeping down

The apple trees are hung with gold… And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold… The wild goat runs across the wold… But yesterday his love he told,

Thou knowest all; I seek in vain What lands to till or sow with see… The land is black with briar and w… Nor cares for falling tears or rai… Thou knowest all; I sit and wait

I am weary of lying within the cha… When the knights are meeting in ma… Nay, go not thou to the red—roofed… Lest the hoofs of the war—horse tr… But I would not go where the Squi…

Not that I love thy children, who… See nothing save their own unlovel… Whose minds know nothing, nothing… But that the roar of thy Democrac… Thy reigns of Terror, thy great A…

How vain and dull this common worl… To such a One as thou, who should… At Florence with Mirandola, or wa… Through the cool olives of the Ac… Thou should’st have gathered reeds…