Vision of peace, Joy without stai… That on my vext heart sweetly shin… Hast thou, too, known the touch of… Cares and dark hours, when in vain For thy lost quiet thou repinest?

Mother, because thine eyes are sea… And thy cheeks pale, and thy lips… In silence plunged, so fathomlessl… Thou liest, and relaxest all thy w… Is it indeed thy spirit that is fl…

At her window gazes over the elms A girl; she looks on the branching… But her eyes possess unfathomed re… Her young hand holds her dreaming… Drifted, the dazzling clouds ascen…

Book I ‘O from the dungeon of this flesh… At last, and to have peace,’ Porp… Inly tormented, as with pain he to… Before his dwelling in the Syrian…

Amid the thunder of the guns, The lightnings of the lance and sw… Your hope, your dread, your throbb… Your infinite passion is outpoured From hearts that are as one high h…

Hast thou not known them, too, the… Rare moments, such as came to me b… On this clear, breezy evening, whe… Flows through the orchard’s tossin… As though beyond their lifted scre…

Fall now, my cold thoughts, frozen… My sad thoughts, over my heart, To be the tender burial Of sweetness and of smart. Fall soft as the snow, when all me…

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

Burned from the ore’€™s rejected d… The iron whitens in the heat. With plangent strokes of pain and… The hammers on the iron beat. Searched by the fire, through deat…

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

The night is holy and haunted, Asleep in a vale of June. Stillness and earth—smell mingle With the beams’ unearthly boon.— Yet a terror is fallen upon me

Beautifully dies the year. Silence sleeps upon the mere: Yellow leaves float on it, stilly As, in June, the opened lily. Brushing o’er the frosty grass

What wonder of what hope do you en… Whose eyes are all filled with fut… What shape of more than beauty wou… With desire’s strength out of the… Your bosom is the haunt of holy fe…

I am here, and you; The sun blesses us through Leaves made of light. The air is in your hair; You hold a flower.

In misty blue the lark is heard Above the silent homes of men; The bright-eyed thrush, the little… The yellow-billed sweet-voiced bla… Mid sallow blossoms blond as curd