The Lord Himsel’ in former days Waled out the proper tunes for pra… An’ named the proper kind o’ claes For folk to preach in: Preceese and in the chief o’ ways

The tropics vanish, and meseems th… From Halkerside, from topmost All… Or steep Caerketton, dreaming gaz… Far set in fields and woods, the t… Spring gallant from the shallows o…

WHAT man may learn, what man may… Of right or wrong of false or true… While, skipper—like, his course he… Through nine and twenty mingled ye… Half misconceived and half forgot,

It is very nice to think The world is full of meat and drin… With little children saying grace In every Christian kind of place.

Though he, that ever kind and true… Kept stoutly step by step with you… Your whole long, gusty lifetime th… Be gone a while before, Be now a moment gone before,

I have a hoard of treasure in my b… The grange of memory steams agains… Full of my bygone lifetime’s garne… Old pleasures crowned with sorrow… Old sorrow grown a joy, old penanc…

Not undelightful, friend, our rust… To grateful hearts; for by especia… Deep nested in the hill’s enormous… With its own ring of walls and gro… Sits, in deep shelter, our small c…

So shall this book wax like unto a… Fairy with mirrored flowers about… Or like some tarn that wailing cur… Glassing the sallow uplands or bro… And so, as men go down into a dell

Resign the rhapsody, the dream, To men of larger reach; Be ours the quest of a plain theme… The piety of speech. As monkish scribes from morning br…

My tea is nearly ready and the sun… It’s time to take the window to se… For every night at teatime and bef… With lantern and with ladder he co… Now Tom would be a driver and Mar…

WOULDST thou be free? I think… But if thou wouldst, attend this s… When quite contented }thou canst d… Thou shall be free when } And drink a small wine of the marc…

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…

Summer fading, winter comes— Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story—books. Water now is turned to stone

TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer —fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her,

Plain as the glistering planets sh… When winds have cleaned the skies, Her love appeared, appealed for mi… And wantoned in her eyes. Clear as the shining tapers burned