I wandered through Scoglietto’s f… The oranges on each o’erhanging sp… Burned as bright lamps of gold to… Some startled bird with fluttering… Made snow of all the blossoms; at…

Is it thy will that I should wax… Barter my cloth of gold for hodden… And at thy pleasure weave that web… Whose brightest threads are each a… Is it thy will—Love that I love s…

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,

A ring of gold and a milk—white do… Are goodly gifts for thee, And a hempen rope for your own lov… To hang upon a tree. For you a House of Ivory

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…

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

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…

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;

Rid of the world’s injustice, and… He rests at last beneath God’s ve… Taken from life when life and love… The youngest of the martyrs here i… Fair as Sebastian, and as early s…

To outer senses there is peace, A dreamy peace on either hand Deep silence in the shadowy land, Deep silence where the shadows cea… Save for a cry that echoes shrill

The Gods are dead: no longer do w… To grey—eyed Pallas crowns of oli… Demeter’s child no more hath tithe… And in the noon the careless sheph… For Pan is dead, and all the want…

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

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;

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…