#English
Oh! my valley of shade and dreams! Golden lights 'mid the distant blu… Sun that pauses to kiss the dew, Dew that trembles beneath its beam… Fain were I but a bird above,
A RIPPLE and a rush, and a mati… And, oh! the month must be at May… A blossom and a tree, and a honey-… And, oh! it’s such a perfect day! A meeting and a smile, and a sunli…
Bredon is a lonesome hill, It hasn’t any brothers ; It stands within the Severn vale, Apart from all the others. The Cotswold Hills go hand in han…
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…
Pale depth of sky, serene and wond… Within whose fold the lamps of ear… Shine far away and faintly luminou… Whose pensive tones merge from the… Into this colour indescribable ;
Song ‘ O Lady mine! ’one day I cried,’ Pray make for me a posy, That I may think when from your s… On your young mouth so rosy.’
Meeting you I felt a thrill, Strangely sad, and strangely sweet… Some compelling force of will, Sprung from sympathies complete, Sympathies, that rose again
It is the dawn, that wondrous fate… Of strange desires, of thoughts an… Within the womb of possibihty. A wind new-wakened combs the silke… Lifting the foam hke some unearthl…
The faintness of my heart When strife and evil rose, The worse and lesser part Which it for ever chose, God knows.
‘ Oh! bother,’ sang the thrush, ‘I’m in an awful rush, For I’ve got to get ready for the… With feathers from my breast, I’ll line a cosy nest,
This is the Sabbath day, the day… That breathes so gently in this qu… With such insistent peace that for… The silver olives on the mountain’… Forget to whisper, folded in the g…
A GLORY is this autumn day. That stretches far across the land… To where the sea along the sand Sings kindly, with a gentle lay Upon its lips. The gleam and sway
I have chosen a hill very solemn a… To shelter me. I have chosen a home very humble a… Where I would be. I have chosen a wind very fragrant…
I made a little funeral pyre, And on it laid my youthful rhymes, Those thoughts of innocent desire, Dear foolish words of childhood ti… Poor things they were, misspelt an…
Schwartz Wald The heat of the mid-day has smitte… The mountains are closing their ey… The boulders stand stark, where th… For Earth in her passion is wholl…
