Frost—locked all the winter, Seeds, and roots, and stones of fr… What shall make their sap ascend That they may put forth shoots? Tips of tender green,
Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.
Here where I dwell I waste to ski… The curse is come upon me, and I… In penal torment powerless to aton… The curse is come on me, which mak… And doth not tarry, crushing both…
Bread and milk for breakfast, And woollen frocks to wear, And a crumb for robin redbreast On the cold days of the year.
While roses are so red, While lilies are so white, Shall a woman exalt her face Because it gives delight? She’s not so sweet as a rose,
Oh the cheerful Budding—time! When thorn—hedges turn to green, When new leaves of elm and lime Cleave and shed their winter scree… Tender lambs are born and ‘baa,’
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
Sonnets are full of love, and this… Has many sonnets: so here now shal… One sonnet more, a love sonnet, fr… To her whose heart is my heart’s q… To my first Love, my Mother, on w…
Sleeping at last, the trouble and… Sleeping at last, the struggle and… Cold and white, out of sight of fr… Sleeping at last. No more a tired heart downcast or…
A ring upon her finger, Walks the bride, With the bridegroom tall and hands… At her side. A veil upon her forehead
I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…
Brownie, Brownie, let down your m… White as swansdown and smooth as s… Fresh as dew and pure as snow: For I know where the cowslips blo… And you shall have a cowslip wreat…
I have but one rose in the world, And my one rose stands a—drooping: Oh, when my single rose is dead There’ll be but thorns for stoopin…
On the wind of January Down flits the snow, Travelling from the frozen North As cold as it can blow. Poor robin redbreast,
I wish I could remember that firs… First hour, first moment of your m… If bright or dim the season, it mi… Summer or Winter for aught I can… So unrecorded did it slip away,