All around the house is the jet—bl… It stares through the window—pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding f… And it moves with the moving flame… Now my little heart goes a beating…

Historical Associations Dear Uncle Jim. this garden groun… That now you smoke your pipe aroun… has seen immortal actions done And valiant battles lost and won.

I read, dear friend, in your dear… Your life’s tale told with perfect… The river of your life, I trace Up the sun-chequered, devious bed To the far-distant fountain-head.

Bring the comb and play upon it! Marching, here we come! Willie cocks his highland bonnet, Johnnie beats the drum. Mary Jane commands the party,

HAD I the power that have the wi… The enfeebled will– a modern curse… This book of mine should blossom s… A perfect garden—ground of verse. White placid marble gods should ke…

COME, here is adieu to the city And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me Watered with last night’s rain. The timbered country woos me

When the golden day is done, Through the closing portal, Child and garden, Flower and sun, Vanish all things mortal. As the blinding shadows fall

ON now, although the year be done… Now, although the love be dead, Dead and gone; Hear me, O loved and cherished on… Give me still the hand that led,

MEN are Heaven’s piers; they eve… Unwearying bear the skyey floor; Man’s theatre they bear with ease, Unfrowning cariatides! I, for my wife, the sun uphold,

THE angler rose, he took his rod, He kneeled and made his prayers to… The living God sat overhead: The angler tripped, the eels were…

Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,

O DULL cold northern sky, O brawling sabbath bells, O feebly twittering Autumn bird t… The year is like to die! O still, spoiled trees, O city wa…

YOU remember, I suppose, How the August sun arose, And how his face Woke to trill and carolette All the cages that were set

Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble—dew, Steel—true and blade—straight, The great artificer Made my mate.

MY Martial owns a garden, famed t… Beyond the glades of the Hesperid… Along Janiculum lies the chosen b… Where the cool grottos trench the… The moderate summit, something pla…