My lady in her white silk shawl Is like a lily dim, Within the twilight of the room Enthroned and kind and prim. My lady! Pale gold is her hair.

Sweetheart Spring Our Sweetheart, Spring, came soft… Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us with desire.

The old man had his box and wheel For grinding knives and shears. No doubt his bell in village stree… Was joy to children’s ears. And I bethought me of my youth

Lady of Light, and our best woman… Stand now for peace, (though anger… Though naught but smoke and flame… Lady of Light, speak, though you… Though your voice may seem as a do…

The Lion is a kingly beast. He likes a Hindu for a feast. And if no Hindu he can get, The lion-family is upset. He cuffs his wife and bites her ea…

The moon is but a candle-glow That flickers thro’ the gloom: The starry space, a castle hall: And Earth, the children’s room, Where all night long the old trees…

Let not our town be large, remembe… That little Athens was the Muses’… That Oxford rules the heart of Lo… That Florence gave the Renaissanc… Record it for the grandson of your…

Would that such hills and cities r… Such vistas of the actual earth an… As kindled Titian when his life b… Would that this latter Greek coul… Wisdom and splendor in our brushes…

Why do I see these empty boats, s… One haunted me the whole night lon… Returning always near the eaves, o… There it will wait me many weeks,… Each soul is haunted by a ship in…

(A Poem Game.) “And when the Queen of Sheba hear… [The men’s leader rises as he sees… Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sh… [He bows three times.]

’Tis a moonlight night in the spring of the year.” In Which, contrary to Artistic Custom, the moral of the piece is placed before the reader. (From the first Khandaka of the M...

Once, in the city of Kalamazoo, The gods went walking, two and two… With the friendly phoenix, the sta… The speaking pony and singing lion… For in Kalamazoo in a cottage apa…

(To a Man who maintained that… I would be one with the dark, dark… Follow the plough with a yokel tre… I would be part of the Indian cor… Walking the rows with the plumes o…

[Concerning O. Henry (Sidney… “He could not forget that he was a… Is this Sir Philip Sidney, this… The darling of the glad and gaping… This is that dubious hero of the p…

(A Poem Game.) The King of Yellow Butterflies, The King of Yellow Butterflies, The King of Yellow Butterflies, Now orders forth his men.