I never saw you, never grasped you… Nor wrote nor read lines absence l… Ne’er with you sate in your accust… Nor waited for your coming on sea… But this I know, if along unseen…

Realm of ocean-guarded Peace, Humming loom and grazing steer, Farm, and forge, and woven fleece, Happier, homelier, year by year, Hark! athwart the wintry air,

Primroses, why do you pass away? Primroses Nay, rather, why should we longer… We are not needed, now stooping sh… Have sandalled the feet of May wi…

Could I but leave men wiser by my… And somewhat happier in their litt… Wean them from things that lure bu… Make the harsh gentle, and the fee… Shunning the paths where pride and…

SHE wanders in the April woods, That glisten with the fallen showe… She leans her face against the bud… She stops, she stoops, she plucks… She feels the ferment of the hour:

Now round red roofs stand russet s… Homeward from gleaning in the stub… High overhead the harsh rook saile… And cupless acorns crackle 'neath… No breeze, no breath, veereth the…

Men deemed thee fallen, did they?… Coiled into self to foil a Vandal… Not wholly shorn of strength, but… Weaned from thy fame by a too happ… Scanning the ridges of thy teeming…

Here let us sit beneath this oak,… The acorns fitfully fall one by on… The final harvest of the fading ye… Now Summer eves and Autumn days a… The orchard rows stand desolate an…

Had you but shown me living what y… Now I am gone, to keep my grave-p… And I but known what vainly now I… Lying here alone, how happy had I… If you with smiles had gladdened o…

Yes, nightingale and cuckoo! it wa… That you should come together; for… Are emblems of the rapture and the… That in the April of our life com… Until we know not which is the mor…

Where lies Mozart? Tradition show… A likely spot: so much, no more: No words of his own time disclose When crossed He to the Further S… Though later ages, roused to shame…

What! And it was so! Thou wert th… Death-stricken from behind, O heart of hearts! and they were m… That rent thee from mankind! Greedy hatred chasing love,

Blithe friend! blithe throstle! I… Whom I at last again hear sing, Perched on thy old accustomed boug… Poet-prophet of the Spring? Yes! Singing as thou oft hast sun…

Exile or Caesar? Death hath solve… And made thee certain of thy chang… And thou no more hast wearily to w… Straining to catch the people’s ta… That from unrestful rest would dra…

There was a snow-white lily Grew by a cottage door: Such a white and wonderful lily Never was seen before. The earth and the ether brought it