“The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahe… It’s true I’ve been accustomed no… And joints get rusty, and one’s li… More fit to rest than roam. ”But I can stand as yet fair stre…

I WILL be faithful to thee; aye… And Death shall choose me with a… That he did not discern and domici… One his by right ever since that l… I have no care for friends, or kin…

AS evening shaped I found me on a… Which sight could scarce sustain: The black lean land, of featureles… Was like a tract in pain. “This scene, like my own life,” I…

   I saw a dead man’s finer part Shining within each faithful heart Of those bereft. Then said I: "T…    His immortality."    I looked there as the seasons w…

At last! In sight of home again, Of home again; No more to range and roam again As at that bygone time? No more to go away from us

Beeny did not quiver, Juliot grew not gray, Thin Valency’s river Held its wonted way. Bos seemed not to utter

“ALIVE?”—And I leapt in my wond… Was faint of my joyance, And grasses and grove shone in gar… Of glory to me. “She lives, in a plenteous well-be…

When I set out for Lyonnesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray, And starlight lit my lonesomeness When I set out for Lyonnesse

As I drive to the junction of lan… And the drizzle bedrenches the wag… I look behind at the fading byway, And see on its slope, now glisteni… Distinctly yet

How great my grief, my joys how fe… Since first it was my fate to know… —Have the slow years not brought t… How great my grief, my joys how fe… Nor memory shaped old times anew,

Who were the twain that trod this… So many times together Hither and back, In spells of certain and uncertain… Commonplace in conduct they

When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wa… As one who, held in trance, has la… By vacant rote and prepossession s… The coils that thou hast wrought u… Wherein have place, unrealized by…

O epic-famed, god-haunted Central… Heave careless of the deep wrong d… When from Torino’s track I saw th… And multimarbled Genova the Proud… Gleam all unconscious how, wide-li…

“OLD Norbert with the flat blue… A German said to be— Why let your pipe die on your lap, Your eyes blink absently?”— —"Ah!... Well, I had thought till…