Splendours of sunset burned upon t… As from the lane’s deep shade Emerging, a warm grassy plat we fo… Skirting the forest glade, And in the midst a solitary oak.

No more now with jealous complaini… Shall you be vext; nor I with fea… Torture my heart: my heart is secu… And laughs at follies of former te… No more now with the endless paini…

All is wild with change, Large the yellow leaves Hang, so frail and few. Now they go, they too Flutter, lifted, lying,

An Ode Luce intellettual, piena d’ amore Prelude Lo, the spirit of a pulsing star w… Born of earth, sprung from night!

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

When I am only I, The secret battle—ground Of world and will, wherein Self is so strictly bound, Then am I condemned;

Tarry a moment, happy feet, That to the sound of laughter glid… O glad ones of the evening street, Behold what forms are at your side… You conquerors of the toilsome day

Never were towers so fair, so bold… Passionately springing, arrogant t… Nor air so blue over roofs so old, Nor on ancient walls so rare a gol… When I found my love among the fl…

Not yet a bough to bud may dare On the naked tree. Yet happy leaves in the bough prep… And could I see Far as a soaring bird, I know

The wind has fal’n asleep; the bou… Is quiet; the warm sun’s gone; the… Sinks and is almost lost; Yet the April day glows on within… Happy as the white buds in the blu…

Now danced are all the dances, And all the games are done, The merry noise, the laughter, Feasting and lights and fun; The gifts unwrapt and given,

To the People of the United Stat… Now is the time of the splendour o… The spirit of man grows grander th… The unbearable burden is borne, th… Though harder is yet to do

Sitting with strangers in the hurr… We spoke not to each other. Golde… Flooded those warm fields greener… Then sudden darkness stole it all… Her face was gone; but on the dark…

O WORLD, be nobler, for her sak… If she but knew thee what thou art… What wrongs are borne, what deeds… In thee, beneath thy daily sun, Know’st thou not that her tender h…

A wondrous rumour fills and stirs The wide Carmanian Vale; On leafy hills the sunburnt vintag… Stand listening; silent is the ech… Upon the threshing—floors: