I have no store Of gryphon—guarded gold; Now, as before, Bare is the shepherd’s fold. Rubies nor pearls

Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair

Christ, dost thou live indeed? or… Still straightened in their rock—h… And was thy Rising only dreamed b… Whose love of thee for all her sin… For here the air is horrid with me…

Under the rose—tree’s dancing shad… There stands a little ivory girl, Pulling the leaves of pink and pea… With pale green nails of polished… The red leaves fall upon the mould…

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…

Albeit nurtured in democracy, And liking best that state republi… Where every man is Kinglike and n… Is crowned above his fellows, yet… Spite of this modern fret for Lib…

There was a time in Europe long a… When no man died for freedom anywh… But England’s lion leaping from i… Laid hands on the oppressor! it wa… While England could a great Repub…

Could we dig up this long—buried t… Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is…

Within this restless, hurried, mod… We took our hearts’ full pleasure—… And now the white sails of our shi… And spent the lading of our argosy… Wherefore my cheeks before their t…

As one who poring on a Grecian ur… Scans the fair shapes some Attic… God with slim goddess, goodly man… And for their beauty’s sake is lot… And face the obvious day, must I…

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;

My limbs are wasted with a flame, My feet are sore with travelling, For calling on my Lady’s name My lips have now forgot to sing. O Linnet in the wild—rose brake

This mighty empire hath but feet o… Of all its ancient chivalry and mi… Our little island is forsaken quit… Some enemy hath stolen its crown o… And from its hills that voice hath…

The wild bee reels from bough to b… With his furry coat and his gauzy… Now in a lily—cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a—swing, In his wandering;