GO(D) knows, my Martial, if we t… To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our… And take a furlough from the false… No rich saloon, nor palace of the…

Yet, O stricken heart, remember,… How of human days he lived the bet… April came to bloom and never dim… Breathed its killing chills upon t… Doomed to know not winter, only S…

SINCE years ago for evermore My cedar ship I drew to shore; And to the road and riverbed And the green, nodding reeds, I s… Mine ignorant and last farewell:

I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy i… Now I know the false and true, For the earnest sun looks through,

IN Schnee der Alpen– so it runs To those divine accords– and here We dwell in Alpine snows and suns… A motley crew, for half the year: A motley crew, we dwell to taste—

HAIL, guest, and enter freely! A… Is, for your momentary visit, your… Who welcome you are but the guests… And know not our departure.

I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;— Where below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, And, watched by cockatoos and goat…

Since long ago, a child at home, I read and longed to rise and roam… Where’er I went, whate’er I wille… One promised land my fancy filled. Hence the long roads my home I ma…

The year runs through her phases;… Springtime and summer pass; winter… But one pale season rules the hous… Cold falls the imprisoned daylight… By each lean pallet squats, and pa…

The human conscience has fled of l… domain of conduct for what I shoul… less congenial field of art: there… rage, and with special severity in… so that in every novel the letters…

STILL I love to rhyme, and stil… Far from the commoner way; Old—time trills and falls by the b… Dreaming to—morrow to—day. Come here, come, revive me, Sun—G…

A birdie with a yellow bill Hopped upon my window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: “Ain’t you 'shamed, you sleepy—hea…

To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre

LONG TIME I LAY IN LIT… LONG time I lay in little ease Where, placed by the Turanian, Marseilles, the many—masted, sees The blue Mediterranean.

Grown about by fragrant bushes, Sunken in a winding valley, Where the clear winds blow And the shadows come and go, And the cattle stand and low