A FIELD of scented clover That honey-bees hang over, A hazel-wood in Spring, Where thrush and robin sing. A stream that seaward flows.

Ah! why have I built my Castle On the shifting golden sand? On the shores of the hungry ocean Instead of the safe highland? I ask myself, and I answer

You’re just as pretty as the Day, That young and pink above the hill… Trips daintily along her way, With little breezy thrills. I know that when she steps to eart…

Crush these voluptuous grapes betw… Your small, strong teeth! and let… Be offered in a sacrificial rain Of sun-warmed essence; while I tw… Of all their leaves, and place it…

Oh! why let all these winged days… Will you not give me leave with th… To taste the sweets of our new par… Beyond the outer dark where fate h… Must we for ever see the golden po…

If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…

Song Dear, perchance 'neath the frost a… One little golden flower is sleepi… You shall find it, for you will kn… Whither at dawn the sun goes peepi…

When I the hills of Malvern see, There comes a sadness over me. The reason why, I cannot tell, Perhaps I love those hills too we… But this I know, when I behold

The wind has shaken the lilac tree… And scattered their purple bloom, The wind has harassed the honey be… And robbed the flowers of their me… The wind has gathered a host of cl…

This valley now in sun, and now in… Is like the musings of your tender… That pauses, bathed in joy, yet ha… To look before, and then to gaze b… Along the fragrant meadows slowly…

Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.

Hot with the ardour of the sun, Whose burning lips had slain the n… The golden pallor of the moon Was but an added fire, o’ercome With memories she swooned away,

Go, cold white pearls, with your l… The woman is waiting who longs to… But the rainbow light that within… But the soft cool touch of your sa… You are undefiled, and the price o…

‘ Swift away, swift away,’ Sang the fickle swallow, Oh! the fickle swallow, Flying to the sun! ‘Come, my little brothers,

I often think that all those vast… For purer joys, that thrill the hu… Vague yearnings such as solitude i… That nameless something silence ca… Could after all be quenched by sim…