Pale are the words I build for my… To house in; pale as the chill mis… An ardent morn. My fire to others… But dimly burns through the frail… I cast but shadows from my inward…

So late the rustling shower was he… Yet now the aëry west is still. The wet leaves flash, and lightly… Great drops out of the lilac spill… Peacefully blown, the ashen clouds

When life begins anew, And Youth, from gathering flowers… From vague delights, rapt musings,… Turns restless, seeking some great… To sum his fostered dreams; when t…

I cannot raise my eyelids up from… But I am visited with thoughts of… Slumber has no refreshment half so… As the sweet morn, that wakes my h… I cannot put away life’s trivial c…

When your head leans back slowly,… Muse earnest upon mine and starry… With depths unfathomed that still… And the words fail, and sight with… Whence comes that almost sadness,…

‘O King Amasis, hail! News from thy friend, the King Po… My oars have never rested on the s… From Samos, nor on land my horse’… Till I might tell my tale.’

We grudged not those that were dea… Lovers, brothers, sons. Our hearts were full, and out of a… We gave our belovèd ones. Because we loved, we gave. In the…

Tremulous out of that long darknes… Wast thou, O blossom, made Upon the wintry bough? What drew thee to appear, Like a thought in the mind,

A leaf on the gray sand—path Fallen, and fair with rime! A yellow leaf, a scarlet leaf, And a green leaf ere its time. Days rolled in blood, days torn,

Over sea the sun in a mystery of l… Burns across the waters, on the bl… Luminously crested, wave behind wa… Pours its rushing foam with low co… The wide sands around us, flashing…

What is the spirit’s desire, Sprung, springing, singing, Fountain—fresh, rainbowed over wit… The inner dishevelled crystal, sta… To sevenfold changes of fire?

Thinking of shores that I shall n… And things that I would know but… By Time and briefness, treasuries… In unknown tongue or human bosom h… Knowing how unsure is all my knowl…

Guns! far and near Quick, sudden, angry, They startle the still street, Upturned faces appear, Doors open on darkness,

Wisdom and Valour, Faith, Justice,—the lofty names Of virtue’s quest and prize,— What is each but a cold wraith Until it lives in a man

The rains of yesterday are flown, And light is on the farthest hills… The homeliest rough grass by the s… To radiance thrills; And the wet bank above the ditch,