It was Goldilocks woke up in the… At the first of the shearing of th… There stood his mother on the hear… And of new-leased wheat was little… There stood his sisters by the que…

Through thick Arcadian woods a hu… Following the beasts upon a fresh… But since his horn-tipped bow but… Now at the noontide nought had hap… Within a vale he called his hounds…

King’s daughter sitting in tower s… Fair summer is on many a shield. Why weepest thou as the clouds go… Fair sing the swans 'twixt firth a… Why weepest thou in the window-sea…

What part of the dread eternity Are those strange minutes that I… Mazed with the doubt of love and p… When I thy delicate face may see, A little while before farewell?

Draw not away thy hands, my love, With wind alone the branches move, And though the leaves be scant abo… The Autumn shall not shame us. Say; Let the world wax cold and d…

Hot August noon: already on that… Since sunrise through the Wiltshi… Of mouth and eye, he had gone leag… Ay and by night, till whether good… He was, he knew not, though he kne…

I am Night: I bring again Hope of pleasure, rest from pain: Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and D… My fruitful silence quickeneth.

The Beasts that be In wood and waste, Now sit and see, Nor ride nor haste.

The ArgumentA certain man having landed on an island in the Greek sea, found there a beautifuldamsel, whom he would fain have delivered from a strange & dreadful doom, butfailing he...

It was up in the morn we rose beti… From the hall-floor hard by the ro… It was but John the Red and I, And we were the brethren of Grego… And Gregory the Wright was one

Shall we wake one morn of spring, Glad at heart of everything, Yet pensive with the thought of ev… Then the white house shall we leav… Pass the wind-flowers and the bays…

TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… It was the fair knight Aagen To an isle he went his way, And plighted troth to Else, Who was so fair a may.

Love is enough: while ye deemed hi… There were signs of his coming and… His touch it was that would bring… When the summer was deepest and mu… In his footsteps ye followed the d…

There was a lord that hight Malte… Among great lords he was right gre… On poor folk trod he like the dirt… None but God might do him hurt. Deus est Deus pauperum.

In an English Castle in Poictou.… John Curzon Of those three prisoners, that bef… We took down at St. John’s hard b… Two are good masons; we have tools…