Now when the darkness came over th… having lighted a torch of pinewood… the valley. For he had business in… And kneeling on the flint stones o… a young man who was naked and weep…

To that gaunt House of Art which… Of all the great things men have s… The withered body of a girl was br… Dead ere the world’s glad youth ha… And seen by lonely Arabs lying hi…

I marvel not Bassanio was so bold To peril all he had upon the lead, Or that proud Aragon bent low his… Or that Morocco’s fiery heart gre… For in that gorgeous dress of beat…

From his childhood he had been as… knowledge of God, and even while h… saints, as well as certain holy wo… his birth, had been stirred to muc… his answers.

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…

How steep the stairs within Kings… For exile—wearied feet as mine to… And O how salt and bitter is the… Which falls from this Hound’s tab… That I had died in the red ways o…

O goat—foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold,

I— There is no peace beneath the moon… Ah! in those meadows is there peac… Where, girdled with a silver fleec… As a bright shepherd, strays the m…

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…

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…

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,

O well for him who lives at ease With garnered gold in wide domain, Nor heeds the splashing of the rai… The crashing down of forest trees. O well for him who ne’er hath know…

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…

A Lily—Girl, not made for this wo… With brown, soft hair close braide… And longing eyes half veiled by sl… Like bluest water seen through mis… Pale cheeks whereon no love hath l…

He was a Grecian lad, who coming… With pulpy figs and wine from Sic… Stood at his galley’s prow, and le… Blow through his crisp brown curls… And holding wave and wind in boy’s…