That fawn-skin-dappled hair of her… And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of he… II.

Of the million or two, more or les… I rule and possess, One man, for some cause undefined, Was least to my mind. II.

The rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spit… And did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break…

Stop rowing! This one of our bye-… O’er a certain bridge you have to… That’s named, “Of the Angel:” lis… The name “Of the Devil” too much… Venetian acquaintance, so—his the…

O God, where does this tend—these… What would I have? What is this ‘… To bound all? can there be a ‘waki… Of crowning life? The soul would… It would be first in all things—it…

Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the bru…

WOE, he went galloping into the w… Clara, Clara! Let us two dream: shall he ’scape… Scarcely disfigurement, rather a g… Making for manhood which nowise we…

June was not over Though past the fall, And the best of her roses Had yet to blow, When a man I know

This strange thing happened to a p… Viterbo boasts the man among her s… Of note, I seem to think: his rea… Picked up its precepts in Cortona… That’s Pietro Berretini, whom the…

I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. Round and round, like a dance of s…

WHAT girl but, having gathered f… Stript the beds and spoilt the bow… From the lapful light she carries Drops a careless bud?—nor tarries To regain the waif and stray:

He. AH, the bird-like fluting Through the ash-tops yonder— Bullfinch-bubblings, soft sounds s… What sweet thoughts, I wonder? Fine-pearled notes that surely

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his K… Bidding the crop-headed Parliamen… And, pressing a troop unable to st… And see the rogues flourish and ho… Marched them along, fifty score st…

TO E.B.B. There they are, my fifty men and w… Naming me the fifty poems finished… Take them, Love, the book and me… Where the heart lies, let the brai…