It is not yours, O mother, to com… Not, mother, yours to weep, Though nevermore your son again Shall to your bosom creep, Though nevermore again you watch y…

YOU remember, I suppose, How the August sun arose, And how his face Woke to trill and carolette All the cages that were set

A picture-frame for you to fill, A paltry setting for your face, A thing that has no worth until You lend it something of your grac… I send (unhappy I that sing

MY heart, when first the blackbir… My heart drinks in the song: Cool pleasure fills my bosom throu… And spreads each nerve along. My bosom eddies quietly,

With half a heart I wander here As from an age gone by A brother yet—though young in year… An elder brother, I. You speak another tongue than mine…

I HAVE left all upon the shamefu… Honour and Hope, my God, and all… Spurless, with sword reversed and… Degraded and disgraced, I leave t… From him that hath not, shall ther…

Peace and her huge invasion to the… Puts daily home; innumerable sails Dawn on the far horizon and draw n… Innumerable loves, uncounted hopes To our wild coasts, not darkling n…

Do you remember —can we e’er forge… How, in the coiled-perplexities of… In our wild climate, in our scowli… We gloomed and shivered, sorrowed,… The belching winter wind, the miss…

Fifteen men on the Dead Man’s Ch… Yo—ho—ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for t… Yo—ho—ho, and a bottle of rum!

COME, here is adieu to the city And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me Watered with last night’s rain. The timbered country woos me

NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie

MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs… The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, an…

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

BY sunny market—place and street Wherever I go my drum I beat, And wherever I go in my coat of r… The ribbons flutter about my head. I seek recruits for wars to come —

To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre