Within a budding grove, In April’s ear sang every bird hi… But not a song to pleasure my unre… Or touch the tears unwept of bitte… Some spake, methought, with pity,…

Pluck not the wayside flower, It is the traveller’s dower; A thousand passers-by Its beauties may espy, May win a touch of blessing

Saint Margaret’s Eve it did befal… The waves roll so gayly O, The tide came creeping up the wall… Love me true! I opened my gate; who there should…

Seek up and down, both fair and br… We’ve purty lasses many, O; But brown or fair, one girl most r… The Flow’r o’ Belashanny, O. As straight is she as poplar-tree

Chequer’d with woven shadows as I… Among the grass, blinking the wate… I saw an Echo-Spirit in his bay Most idly floating in the noontide… Slow heaved his filmy skiff, and f…

The vast and solemn company of clo… Around the Sun’s death, lit, inca… Cool into ashy wan; as Night ensh… The level pasture, creeping up beh… Through voiceless vales, o’er lawn…

In early morning twilight, raw and… Damp vapours brooding on the barre… Through miles of mire in steady gr… Threescore well-arm’d police pursu… Each tall and bearded man a rifle…

Through grass, through amber’d cor… Fringed with its flags and reeds a… And Meadowsweet, the chosen of th… By wandering children, yellow as t… Of those great cows—winds on as in…

Is always Age severe? Is never Youth austere? Spring-fruits are sour to eat; Autumn’s the mellow time. Nay, very late in the year,

Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! For Summer’s nearly done; The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our Thrushes now are silent,

Now Autumn’s fire burns slowly al… And day by day the dead leaves fal… And night by night the monitory bl… Wails in the key-hold, telling how… O’er empty fields, or upland solit…

Adieu to Belashanny! where I was… Go where I may, I’ll think of you… The kindly spot, the friendly town… And not a face in all the place bu… There’s not a house or window, the…

A wild west Coast, a little Town, Where little Folk go up and down, Tides flow and winds blow: Night and Tempest and the Sea, Human Will and Human Fate:

See the pretty planet! Floating sphere! Faintest breeze will fan it Far or near; World as light as feather;

An Elf sat on a twig, He was not very big, He sang a little song, He did not think it wrong; But he was on a Wizard’s ground,