How like her! But ’tis she hersel… Comes up the crowded street, How little did I think, the morn, My only love to meet! Whose else that motion and that mi…

A True Incident of Pre-Revolu… Now the lovely autumn morning brea… In the crowned castle courtyard th… And the ladies on the terrace smil… To the huntsmen disappearing down…

(AN ECHO FROM A LARGE… That was love that I had before Years ago, when my heart was young… Ev’ry smile was a gem you wore; Ev’ry word was a sweet song sung.

A Waltz Song. O sway, and swing, and sway, And swing, and sway, and swing! Ah me, what bliss like unto this, Can days and daylight bring?

Dead! all’s done with! —R. Browning. These blossoms that I bring, This song that here I sing, These tears that now I shed,

It is so long gone by, and yet How clearly now I see it all! The glimmer of your cigarette, The little chamber, narrow and tal… Perseus; your picture in its frame…

What wonder that I should be drea… Out here in the garden to-day? The light through the leaves is st… Paulina cries, “Play!” The birds to each other are callin…

Now, even, I cannot think it true… My friend, that there is no more y… Almost as soon were no more I, Which were, of course, absurdity! Your place is bare, you are not se…

The east wind blows in the street… The sky is blue, yet the town look… ’Tis the wind of ice, the wind of… Of cold despair and of hot desire, Which chills the flesh to aches an…

Not in the street and not in the s… The street and square where you we… With shuttered casement your house… Men hush their voice when they spe… I, too, can play at the vain prete…

With beating heart and lagging fee… Lord, I approach the Judgment-sea… All bring hither the fruits of toi… Measures of wheat and measures of… Gold and jewels and precious wine;

My student-lamp is lighted, The books and papers are spread; A sound comes floating upwards, Chasing the thoughts from my head. I open the garret window,

Straw in the street where I pass… Dulls the sound of the wheels and… ’Tis for a failing life they lay Straw in the street. Here, where the pulses of London…

"Mein Herz, mein Herz ist trau… Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai" There’s May amid the meadows, There’s May amid the trees; Her May-time note the cuckoo