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…

To meet almost as strangers, who h… Such lovers in the past! no glad d… To thrill our senses, till the wro… For very joy—I wonder will your m… Be happy? it seems years since I…

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,

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…

Oh! golden is the gorse-bush. Beneath an April sky, The lark is full of singing, The clouds are white and high ; But my love, my love is faithless.

The day our dead are laid to rest We heap the earth upon their breas… Upon the earth we set a stone. And then we leave them all alone. Some folks they weep, and some the…

To-day I hate that bitter creed, Whereby the groaning soul is taugh… That God Almighty finds the need Of pain, ere true salvation 's wro… Dear God, who did create the tree…

Malvern The world 's a beautiful world to-… A flame of gold and a dusk of gray… Where Autumn leaves toss their ga… O’er still deep lanes, where the t…

From Wind’s Point hill at eventid… I see the train go by ; The train that goes to Ledbury, Along the vale of Wye. It wanders through the clustered h…

What have we missed, we two— You and I—I and you— Of sorrow, and pain, and tears, Of doubt, and of passionate fears, Of madness, and badness, these yea…

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.

Oh! why is the world as it is, we… With tears in our voice, and a sig… For nothing remains but an unfinis… While beauty is only hypocrisy’s m… The end of it all—but to die.

Oh! the long green lanes of Engla… They be very far away, And it’s there that I’d be walkin… ‘Mid the hawthorn and the may. Where the trees are all in blossom…

Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,