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…

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.

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…

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…

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…

The world that thro’ its vale of t… Looks out upon Eternity Has yet one smile for us, and we Still youthful in the count of yea… May add our smiles, and kiss the l…

And so we closed the book, wherein… How many words of ecstasy and pain… How oft repeated passion’s deep re… Like ebb and flow of tide, whose e… Upon the hearing of our listening…

‘ 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,

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…

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.

What is the end of all sweet thing… Of these dawns and twilights and g… Of the rose that climbs, and the s… Of the breeze that sighs, and the… Dust and ashes and death?

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…

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’…

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,

O Casend Hill, I be so heavy-hea… So lonesome-hke since from my love… That when the bracken on your side… And all the mating thrushes start… A kind of fear across my mind come…