Dear city in the moonlight dreamin… How changed and lovely is your fac… Where is the sordid busy scheming That filled all day the market-pla… Was it but fancy that a rabble

With Pipe and Book at close of da… Oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say? It matters not what book on knee, Old Izaak or the Odyssey, It matters not meerschaum or clay.

(TO JAMES WELCH) Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you… In phrases neither sweet nor soft, But at the end I come to see That thou a friend hast been to me…

War I abhor, And yet how sweet The sound along the marching stree… Of drum and fife, and I forget

There blooms a flower in Trebizon… Stored with such honey for the bee… (So saith the antique book I conn… Of such alluring fragrancy, Not sweeter smells the Eden-tree;

Fragoletta, blessed one, What think you of the light of the… Do you think the dark was best, Lying snug in mother’s breast? Ah! I knew that sweetness, too,

My mouth to thy mouth Ah never, ah never! My breast from thy breast Eternities sever; But my soul to thy soul

(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?

‘The daffodils are fine this year,… ‘O yes, but see my crocuses,’ said… And so we entered in and sat at ta… Within a little parlour bowered ab… With garden-noises, filled with ga…

The woods we used to walk, my love… Are woods no more, But’ villas’ now with sounding nam… All name and door. The pond, where, early on in Marc…

An Elegy High on his Patmos of the Souther… Our northern dreamer sleeps, Strange stars above him, and above… Strange leaves and wings their tro…

Autumn and Winter, Summer and Spring— Hath Time no other song to sing? Weary we grow of the changeless tu… June—December,

O spirit of Life, by whatsoe’er a… Known among men, even as our fathe… Before thee, and as little childre… For counsel in Life’s dread predi… Even we, with all our lore,

The Rose has left the garden, Here she but faintly lives, Lives but for me, Within this little urn of pot-pour… Of all that was

I crossed the orchard, walking hom… The rising moon was at my back, The apples and the moonlight fell Together on the railroad track. Then, speeding through the evening…