Unless you come while still the wo… A place of birds and the blue drea… In vain has all the singing summer… Unless you come, and share it all… Ah! come, ere August flames its h…

(TO EDMUND GOSSE) Still towards the steep Parnassia… The moon-led pilgrims wend, Ah, who of all that start to-day Shall ever reach the end?

My door is always left ajar, Lest you should suddenly slip thro… A little breathless frightened sta… Each footfall sets my heart abeat, I always think it may be you,

O Lady, I have looked on thee onc… Thou too hast looked on me, as tho… And though the joy was pain, the p… Bliss that more happy lovers well… Captives feast richly on a little…

Must I believe this beauty wholly… That in her picture here so deathl… And must I henceforth speak of he… Tells of some face of legend or of… Still here and there remembered-sc…

Give me the lifted skirt, And the brave ways of wrong, The fist, the dagger and the sword… And the out-spoken song. Ah! bring me not the love

O sad-eyed man who yonder sits, Face in a book from morn till nigh… Who, though the world should go to… Pores on right through the waning… O is it sorrow or delight

There is too much beauty upon this… For lonely men to bear, Too many eyes, too enchanted skies… Too many things too fair; And the man who would live the lif…

The human heart will never change, The human dream will still go on, The enchanted earth be ever strang… With moonlight and the morning sun… And still the seas shall shout for…

Nature, that makes Professors all… And, filling idle souls with idle… Turns out small Poets every other… Made earth for men—but seldom puts… Ah, Minto, thou of that minority

(A Prefatory Sonnet for SANTA LUCIA, the Misses Hodg… Magazine for the Blind) We, deeming day-light fair, and lo… Its forms and dyes, and all the mo…

FOR THE BEATRICE CELEB… Nine mystic revolutions of the sph… Since Dante’s birth, and lo! a st… Shining in heaven: and like a lark… Springing to meet it, straight in…

I thought, before my sunlit twenti… That I knew Love, and Death that… And my young broken heart in littl… Dew-like, I poured, and waited fo… Wildly-and waited-being then ninet…

Art is a gipsy, Fickle as fair, Good to kiss and flirt with, But marry—if you dare!

The gods are there, they hide thei… From you that will not kneel— Worship, and they reveal, Call—and ’tis they! They have not changed, nor moved f…