Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.

There’s blood between us, love, my… There’s father’s blood, there’s br… And blood’s a bar I cannot pass. I choose the stairs that mount abo… Stair after golden sky—ward stair,

The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,

I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,

When a mounting skylark sings In the sunlit summer morn, I know that heaven is up on high, And on earth are fields of corn. But when a nightingale sings

Angels at the foot, And Angels at the head, And like a curly little lamb My pretty babe in bed.

Hope new born one pleasant morn Died at even; Hope dead lives nevermore. No, not in heaven. If his shroud were but a cloud

We lack, yet cannot fix upon the l… Not this, nor that; yet somewhat,… We see the things we do not yearn… Around us: and what see we glancin… Lost hopes that leave our hearts u…

Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…

The days are clear, Day after day, When April’s here, That leads to May, And June

Lo dì che han detto a’ dolci amici… Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vi… Come back to me, who wait and watc… Or come not yet, for it is over th… And long it is before you come aga…