O NEPOS, twice my neigh(b)our (… We’re door by door, by Flora’s te… And in the country, still conjoine… Behold our villas standing gate by… Thou hast a daughter, dearer far t…

THE UNFATHOMABLE sea, and t… The deeds of heroes and the crimes… Dispart us; and the river of event… Has, for an age of years, to east… More widely borne our cradles. Th…

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…

As the single pang of the blow, wh… Rings and lives and resounds in al… So the thunder above spoke with a… So in the heart of the mountain th… Sudden the thunder was drowned —qu…

We travelled in the print of olden… Yet all the land was green, And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been. They pass and smile, the children…

LATE, O miller, The birds are silent, The darkness falls. In the house the lights are lighte… See, in the valley they twinkle,

WHEN loud by landside streamlets… And clear in the greenwood quires… With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me

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

WITH caws and chirrupings, the w… In this thin sun rejoice. The Psalm seems but the little ki… That sings with its own voice. The cloud—rifts share their amber…

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

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,

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…

Home no more home to me, whither m… Hunger my driver, I go where I mu… Cold blows the winter wind over hi… Thick drives the rain, and my roof… Loved of wise men was the shade of…

I KNOW not how, but as I count The beads of former years, Old laughter catches in my throat With the very feel of tears.

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.