Roses blushing red and white, For delight; Honeysuckle wreaths above, For love; Dim sweet—scented heliotrope,
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing… The moonrise wakes the nightingale… Come darkness, moonrise, everythin… That is so silent, sweet, and pale… Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling… The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind?
She stares the livelong day; Her wig of gold is stiff and cold And cannot change to grey.
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…
Shall I forget on this side of th… I promise nothing: you must wait a… Patient and brave. (O my soul, watch with him and he… Shall I forget in peace of Paradi…
THE irresponsive silence of the l… The irresponsive sounding of the s… Speak both one message of one sens… Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so s… Thou too aloof, bound with the fla…
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,
“Goodbye in fear, goodbye in sorro… Goodbye, and all in vain, Never to meet again, my dear—” “Never to part again.” “Goodbye today, goodbye tomorrow,
Wrens and robins in the hedge, Wrens and robins here and there; Building, perching, pecking, flutt… Everywhere! C
SAFE where I cannot die yet, Safe where I hope to lie too, Safe from the fume and the fret; You, and you, Whom I never forget.
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…
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,
One face looks out from all his ca… One selfsame figure sits or walks… We found her hidden just behind th… That mirror gave back all her love… A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing; Where in the whitethorn