I will tell you when they met: In the limpid days of Spring; Elder boughs were budding yet, Oaken boughs looked wintry still, But primrose and veined violet
Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Flowers are closed and lambs are s… Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Stars are up, the moon is peeping; Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Too late for love, too late for jo… Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…
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…
A rose has thorns as well as honey… I’ll not have her for love or mone… An iris grows so straight and fine… That she shall be no friend of min… Snowdrops like the snow would chil…
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 blue—eyed phantom far before Is laughing, leaping toward the su… Like lead I chase it evermore, I pant and run. It breaks the sunlight bound on bo…
If I were a Queen, What would I do? I’d make you King, And I’d wait on you. If I were a King,
The dog lies in his kennel, And Puss purrs on the rug, And baby perches on my knee For me to love and hug. Pat the dog and stroke the cat,
Before the winter morn, Before the earliest cock crow, Jesus Christ was born: Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger,
In the meadow —what in the meadow? Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet… And fairy rings for the children’s… In the meadow. In the garden —what in the garden?
The splendour of the kindling day, The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way… And have done With all we grasp and toil amongst…
The year stood at its equinox And bluff the North was blowing, A bleat of lambs came from the flo… Green hardy things were growing; I met a maid with shining locks
It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.