Your lines that linger for us down… Like sparks that tell the glory of… Still keep alight the splendor of… And living still, they sting us in… Sole perfect singer that the world…

Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…

MY heart is a garden tired with a… Heaped with bending asters and dah… In the hazy sunshine, the garden r… The drench of rains and a snow-dro… Daffodils blowing in the cold wind…

AT six o’clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty r… The bells of the mission down in t… Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as…

Why did you bring me here? The sand is white with snow, Over the wooden domes The winter sea-winds blow— There is no shelter near,

IF I were a bee and you were a ro… Would you let me in when the gray… Would you hold your petals wide ap… Would you let me in to find your h… If you were a rose?

I went out on an April morning All alone, for my heart was high, I was a child of the shining meado… I was a sister of the sky. There in the windy flood of mornin…

When first I saw you, felt you ta… I could not speak for happiness to… How more than all they said your h… How strong you were, and quick to… I dared not say: “I who am least…

I heard a cry in the night, A thousand miles it came, Sharp as a flash of light, My name, my name! It was your voice I heard,

STEELY stars and moon of brass, How mockingly you watch me pass! You know as well as I how soon I shall be blind to stars and moon… Deaf to the wind in the hemlock tr…

My heart is but a little house With room for only three or four, And it was filled before you knock… Upon the door. I longed to bid you come within,

Gray pilgrim, you have journeyed f… I pray you tell to me Is there a land where Love is not… By shore of any sea? For I am weary of the god,

Oh Loves there are that enter in, And Loves there are that wait, And Loves that sit a-weeping Whose joy will come too late. For some there be that ope their d…

When the horns wear thin And the noise, like a garment outw… Falls from the night, The tattered and shivering night, That thinks she is gay;

If he could know my songs are all… At silver dawn or in the evening g… Would he not smile and think it bu… If he could know? Or would his heart rejoice and ove…