The summer nights are short Where northern days are long: For hours and hours lark after lar… Trills out his song. The summer days are short
Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast,
Shall I forget on this side of th… I promise nothing: you must wait a… Patient and brave. (O my soul, watch with him and he… Shall I forget in peace of Paradi…
A blue—eyed phantom far before Is laughing, leaping toward the su… Like lead I chase it evermore, I pant and run. It breaks the sunlight bound on bo…
The peach tree on the southern wal… Has basked so long beneath the sun… Her score of peaches great and sma… Bloom rosy, every one. A peach for brothers, one for each…
January cold desolate; February all dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune
1 and 1 are 2 — That’s for me and you. 2 and 2 are 4 — That’s a couple more. 3 and 3 are 6
The peacock has a score of eyes, With which he cannot see; The cod—fish has a silent sound, However that may be; No dandelions tell the time,
She gave up beauty in her tender y… Gave all her hope and joy and plea… She covered up her eyes lest they… On vanity, and chose the bitter tr… Harsh towards herself, towards oth…
Jesus, do I love Thee? Thou art far above me, Seated out of sight Hid in Heavenly Light Of most highest height.
We lack, yet cannot fix upon the l… Not this, nor that; yet somewhat,… We see the things we do not yearn… Around us: and what see we glancin… Lost hopes that leave our hearts u…
‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,
I would not if I could undo my pa… Tho’ for its sake my future is a b… My past, for which I have myself… For all its faults and follies fir… I would not cast anew the lot once…
Vanity of vanities, the Preacher… All things are vanity. The eye an… Cannot be filled with what they se… Like early dew, or like the sudden… Of wind, or like the grass that wi…
Crimson curtains round my mother’s… Silken soft as may be; Cool white curtains round about my… For I am but a baby.