I scanned her picture dreaming,    Till each dear line and hue Was imaged, to my seeming,    As if it lived anew. Her lips began to borrow

UPON a poet’s page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent t… Whence that high singer’s rapture… —When now I turn the leaf the sam…

It faces west, and round the back… High beeches, bending, hang a veil… And sweep against the roof. Wild… Climb on the walls, and seem to sp… (If we may fancy wish of trees and…

I MARK the months in liveries da… The day-tides many-shaped and hued… I see the nightfall shades subtrud… And hear the monotonous hours clan… I view the evening bonfires of the…

How much shall I love her? For life, or not long? “Not long.” Alas! When forget her? In years, or by June?

While the far farewell music thins… And the broad bottoms rip the bear… All smalling slowly to the gray se… And each significant red smoke-sha… Keen sense of severance everywhere…

The thick lids of Night closed up… Alone at the Bill Of the Isle by the Race - Many—caverned, bald, wrinkled of f… And with darkness and silence the…

I found her out there On a slope few see, That falls westwardly To the sharp-edged air, Where the ocean breaks

NOT a line of her writing have I… Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame i… I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight

SNOW-BOUND in woodland, a mour… Dropt now and then from the bill o… Reached me on wind-wafts; and thus… Wearily waiting:— “I planned her a nest in a leafles…

“Soul! Shall I see thy face,” she…    "In one brief hour? And away with thee from a loveless… To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt… And be thine own unseparated,

Between us now and here -    Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear    Life’s flushest feather - Who see the scenes slide past,

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to… Now steals along upon the Moon’s… In even monochrome and curving lin… Of imperturbable serenity. How shall I link such sun—cast sy…