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…

Blows the wind to-day, and the sun… Blows the wind on the moors to-day… Where about the graves of the mart… My heart remembers how! Grey recumbent tombs of the dead i…

Youth now flees on feathered foot Faint and fainter sounds the flute… Rarer songs of gods; and still Somewhere on the sunny hill, Or along the winding stream,

OH, I wad like to ken—to the begg… Why chops are guid to brander and… An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to ke… It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says… Oh, I wad like to ken—to the begg…

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…

When the grass was closely mown, Walking on the lawn alone, In the turf a hole I found And hid a soldier underground. Spring and daisies came apace;

Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and statel… You must try to walk sedately. You must still be bright and quiet…

I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited… Or feigned to visit, now, my day b… Do slumber wholly; nor shall know… The weariness of changes; nor perc… Immeasurable sands of centuries

Last, to the chamber where I lie My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And come out from the cold and glo… Into my warm and cheerful room. There, safe arrived, we turn about

HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light. I see the trees stand fair Against the faded air,

How do you like to go up in a swin… Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest… Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall,

THERE’S just a twinkle in your… That seems to say I MIGHT, if… Were only bold enough to try An arm about your waist. I hear, too, as you come and go,

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

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…

We see you as we see a face That trembles in a forest place Upon the mirror of a pool Forever quiet, clear and cool; And in the wayward glass, appears