But, learning now that they would… She threw her wet hair backward fr… Her hand close to her mouth touchi… As though she had had there a sham… And feeling it shameful to feel ou…

Gold on her head, and gold on her… And gold where the hems of her kir… And a golden girdle round my sweet… Ah! qu’elle est belle La Margueri… Margaret’s maids are fair to see,

Thick rise the spear-shafts o’er t… That erst the harvest bore; The sword is heavy in the hand, And we return no more. The light wind waves the Ruddy Fo…

Come hither lads and hearken, for a tale there is to tell, Of the wonderful days a-coming, wh… shall be better than well. And the tale shall be told of a co…

Hot August noon: already on that… Since sunrise through the Wiltshi… Of mouth and eye, he had gone leag… Ay and by night, till whether good… He was, he knew not, though he kne…

When the boughs of the garden hang… And the blackbird reneweth his son… And the thunder departing yet roll… I remember the ending of wrong. When the day that was dusk while h…

Our hands have met, our lips have… Our souls - who knows when the win… How light souls drift mid longings… If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was not long ago?

Pear-tree. By woodman’s edge I faint and fai… By craftsman’s edge I tell the ta… Chestnut-tree. High in the wood, high o’er the ha…

Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin

King’s daughter sitting in tower s… Fair summer is on many a shield. Why weepest thou as the clouds go… Fair sing the swans 'twixt firth a… Why weepest thou in the window-sea…

So swift the hours are moving Unto the time unproved: Farewell my love unloving, Farewell my love beloved! What! are we not glad-hearted?

It was a knight of the southern la… Rode forth upon the way When the birds sang sweet on eithe… About the middle of the May. But when he came to the lily-close…

TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… Agnes went through the meadows a-w… Fowl are a-singing. There stood the hill-man heed ther… Agnes, fair Agnes!

Summer looked for long am I: Much shall change or e’er I die. Prithee take it not amiss Though I weary thee with bliss.

The Youths. O Winter, O white winter, wert th… No more within the wilds were I a… Leaping with bent bow over stock a… No more alone my love the lamp sho…