The road that leads to Ledbury Oh! it be such a pretty way. As far as Wales you’ll likely see… Suppose the month be May. The little birds they sing and sin…

I weave my verses of smiles and te… Gathered and shed for you, I bind them up in the hopes of yea… Dear, will you read them through? I write my ballads of joy and pain…

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…

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…

A road disused these many years, O’er which the grass has grown Between two rows of silent pines, That stretch in straight, unbroken… Away to plains unknown.

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.

Kind Earth, upon whose mother bre… The fruitful trees in time of spri… Put forth their endless blossoming From North to South, from East t… Whose sweet deep-furrowed soil is…

I stood beside you in the dark, And felt the magic of the night Steal o’er my senses, 'til they sw… And mists of passion dimmed my sig… The stillness made me dumb, those…

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…

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…

Come, put yer little hand in mine. And let it be at rest. It minds me of a tired bird Within a warm brown nest ; And bend that pretty head o’ your’…

The world has grown unreal to-day Far out upon the Zuyder Zee! We drift towards a mystic isle, With scarce a breath of wind the w… I hear the murmur of the tide,

Oh! that the night were passed, an… Made lovely by the joy of spring, Would flood these sombre clouds wi… Oh! that some hopeful bird would s… And in his tiny feathered throat

If not from Phaon I must hope for… Ah! let me seek it from the raging… To raging seas unpitied I’ll remo… And either cease to live or cease… Ovid’s Heroic Epistle, XV.