THE broad sun, The bright day: White sails On the blue bay: The far—farers

THEY tell me, lady, that to—day On that unknown Australian strand… Some time ago, so far away— Another lady joined the band. She joined the company of those

When children are playing alone on… In comes the playmate that never w… When children are happy and lonely… The Friend of the Children comes… Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,

YES, friend, I own these tales o… Smile not, as smiled their flawles… Age—old but yet untamed, for ages Pass and the magic is undiminished… Thus, friend, the tales of the old…

THE old Chimaeras, old receipts For making “happy land,” The old political beliefs Swam close before my hand. The grand old communistic myths

MY love was warm; for that I cros… The mountains and the sea, Nor counted that endeavour lost That gave my love to me. If that indeed were love at all,

You too, my mother, read my rhymes For love of unforgotten times, And you may chance to hear once mo… The little feet along the floor.

Say not of me, that weakly I decl… The labours of my siers, and fled… The towers we founded and the lamp… To play at home with paper like a… But rather say: In the afternoon…

For the long nights you lay awake And watched for my unworthy sake: For your most comfortable hand That led me through the uneven lan… For all the story—books you read:

BEYOND the gates thou gav’st a… I have a larger on my window—sill. A farm, d’ye say? Is this a farm… Where for all woods I spay one tu… And that so rusty, and so small a…

Where the bells peal far at sea Cunning fingers fashioned me. There on palace walls I hung While that Consuelo sung; But I heard, though I listened we…

Some day soon this rhyming volume,… Little Louis Sanchez, will be giv… Then you shall discover, that your… By the English printers, long bef… In the great and busy city where t…

THOU strainest through the mount… A most exiguously thin Burn. For all thy foam, for all thy din, Thee shall the pallid lake inurn, With well—a—day for Mr. Swin—Bur…

CALL it to mind, O my love. Dear were your eyes as the day, Bright as the day and the sky; Like the stream of gold and the sk… Dear were your eyes in the grey.

On the great streams the ships may… About men’s business to and fro. But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sle… On crystal waters ankle-deep: I, whose diminutive design,