The gloss is fading from your hair… The glamour from your brow; The light your eyes were wont to w… Attracts no gazer now. O’er sunny forehead, smiling lips,

Poet! in other lands, when Spring… Gleams o’er the grass, nor in the… Plays at being lost and laughs to… And blooms lie wilted on the orcha… Then the sweet birds that from Æge…

A grizzled owl at midnight moped Where thick the ivy glistened; So I, who long have vainly groped For wisdom, leaned and listened. Its perch was firm, its aspect sta…

The popinjay screamed from tree to… Then was lost in the burnished lea… The sky was as blue as a southern… And the swallow came back to the e… So I followed the sound of pipe a…

Poor little mite with mottled brea… Half-fledged, and fallen from the… For whom this world hath just begu… Who want to fly, yet scarce can ru… Why open wide your yellow beak?

Why do I sit within the spell Of eyes like thine, who oft have k… What ’tis in Beauty’s gaze to dwe… And then-to feel alone: Back be remitted to my cell,

Why, throstle, do you sing In this November haze? Singing for what? for whom? Deem you that it is Spring, Or that your lonely lays

Why love life more, the less of it… And what is left be little but the… And Time’s subsiding passions hav… One’s taste for pleasure, and one’… Is it not better, like the waning…

Good-bye, old year, good-bye! Gentle you were to many as to me, And so we, meditating, sigh, Since what hath been will be, That you must die.

Lo, here among the rest you sleep, As though no difference were ‘Twixt them and you, more wide, mo… Than such as fondness loves to kee… Round each lone sepulchre.

Yes! let His place be there! Where the lone moorland gazes on t… Not in the squalid street nor pomp… So that he again may be From contamination free,

Now do I know that Love is blind,… Can see no beauty on this beauteou… No life, no light, no hopefulness,… Pleasure nor purpose, when thou ar… Thy absence exiles sunshine from t…

When Sorrow first came wailing to… April rehearsed the madrigal of M… And, as I ne’er had seen her face… I kept on singing, and she went he… When next came Sorrow, life was w…

I sallied afield when the bud firs… And the sun first slanteth hotly, And I came on a yokel in cap and… And a suit of saffron motley. He was squat on a bank where a sel…

I had a dream of England. Wild an… The billows ravened round her, and… Darkening and dwindling, blotted o… Then flashed on her a bolt that sc… She, writhing in her ruin, rolled,…