SMALL is the trust when love is… In sap of early years; A little thing steps in between And kisses turn to tears. Awhile —and see how love be grown

NOW bare to the beholder’s eye Your late denuded bindings lie, Subsiding slowly where they fell, A disinvested citadel; The obdurate corset, Cupid’s foe,

AS Love and Hope together Walk by me for a while, Link—armed the ways they travel For many a pleasant mile — Link—armed and dumb they travel,

THE wind may blaw the lee—gang wa… And aye the lift be mirk an’ gray, An deep the moss and steigh the br… Where a’ maun gang — There’s still an hoor in ilka day

My body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces: — Which is so great that there I go All the day long to and fro, And when the night begins to fall

Here all is sunny, and when the tr… Skims the green level of the lawn,… Dispetals roses; here the house is… Of kneaded brick and the plumed mo… Such clay as artists fashion and s…

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…

LOOK round: You see a little sup… But from my window, lo! great Cae… And the great dead themselves, wit… Bid you be merry and remember deat…

Even in the bluest noonday of Jul… There could not run the smallest b… But all the quarter sounded like a… And in the chequered silence and a… The hum of city cabs that sought t…

Farewell, fair day and fading ligh… The clay-born here, with westward… Marks the huge sun now downward so… Farewell. We twain shall meet no… Farewell. I watch with bursting…

Friend, in my mountain-side demesn… My plain-beholding, rosy, green And linnet-haunted garden-ground, Let still the esculents abound. Let first the onion flourish there…

FOR these are sacred fishes all Who know that lord that is the lor… Come to the brim and nose the frie… That sways and can beshadow all th… Nor only so, but have their names,…

My bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor’s coat And starts me in the dark. At night I go on board and say

Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out,

When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore. My holes were empty like a cup. In every hole the sea came up