Tom told his dog called Tim to be… And up at once he sat, His two clear amber eyes fixed fas… His haunches on his mat.Tom poise… His nose; then, ‘Trust! ’ says he…

Isled in the midnight air, Musked with the dark’s faint bloom… Out into glooming and secret haunt… The flame cries, ‘Come!’ Lovely in dye and fan,

All winter through I bow my head beneath the driving rain; the North Wind powders me with sn… and blows me black again; at midnight 'neath a maze of stars

Old and alone, sit we, Caged, riddle-rid men; Lost to earth’s ‘Listen!’ and ‘Se… Thought’s ‘Wherefore?’ and ‘When?… Only far memories stray

I think and think: yet still I fa… Why must this lady wear a veil? Why thus elect to mask her face Beneath that dainty web of lace? The tip of a small nose I see,

Grief hath pacified her face; Even hope might share so still a p… Yet, on the silence of her heart, Haply, if a strange footfall start… Or a chance word of ecstasy

See this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies— ‘Remove, remove thy searching gaze…

Wide are the meadows of night, And daisies are shinng there, Tossing their lovely dews, Lustrous and fair; And through these sweet fields go,

When the last colours of the day Have from their burning ebbed away… About that ruin, cold and lone, The cricket shrills from stone to… And scattering o’er its darkened g…

It’s a very odd thing - As odd can be - That whatever Miss T eats Turns into Miss T.; Porridge and apples,

The seeds I sowed – For week unseen – Have pushed up pygmy Shoots of green; So frail you’d think

Clouded with snow The cold winds blow, And shrill on leafless bough The robin with its burning breast Alone sings now.

While at her bedroom window once, Learning her task for school, Little Louisa lonely sat In the morning clear and cool, She slanted her small bead-brown e…

When music sounds, gone is the ear… And all her lovely things even lov… Her flowers in vision flame, her f… Lift burdened branches, stilled wi… When music sounds, out of the wate…

Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where fal…