What are heavy? Sea—sand and sorr… What are brief? To—day and to—mor… What are frail? Spring blossoms a… What are deep? The ocean and trut…

I am a King, Or an Emperor rather, I wear crown—imperial And prince’s—feather; Golden—rod is the sceptre

A hundred, a thousand to one; even… Not a hope in the world remained: The swarming howling wretches belo… Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wif…

Hope is like a harebell trembling… Love is like a rose the joy of all… Faith is like a lily lifted high a… Love is like a lovely rose the wor… Harebells and sweet lilies show a…

Golden—winged, silver—winged, Winged with flashing flame, Such a flight of birds I saw, Birds without a name: Singing songs in their own tongue

Three plum buns To eat here at the stile In the clover meadow, For we have walked a mile. One for you, and one for me,

‘A cup for hope!’ she said, In springtime ere the bloom was ol… The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth’s richer red. ‘A cup for love!’ how low,

‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,

‘I dreamt I caught a little owl And the bird was blue —’ ‘But you may hunt for ever And not find such a one.’ ‘I dreamt I set a sunflower,

I will accept thy will to do and b… Thy hatred and intolerance of sin, Thy will at least to love, that bu… And thirsteth after Me: So will I render fruitful, blessi…

‘Oh, sad thy lot before I came, But sadder when I go; My presence but a flash of flame, A transitory glow Between two barren wastes like sno…

Hopping frog, hop here and be seen… I’ll not pelt you with stick or st… Your cap is laced and your coat is… Good bye, we’ll let each other alo… Plodding toad, plod here and be lo…

There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…

Some are laughing, some are weepin… She is sleeping, only sleeping. Round her rest wild flowers are cr… There the wind is heaping, heaping Sweetest sweets of Summer’s keepi…