How can I laugh or dance as other… Or ply my rock or reel? My heart will still return to drea… Beside my spinning-wheel. My little dog he cried out in the…

Bring to me white roses, roses, pi… Sweet stock and gillyflowers, popp… Bee-flowers and mignonette, with b… I would make a coverlet for my nar… Bring me no silken cloth, velvet s…

Who has room for a friend Who has money to spend, And a goblet of gold For your fingers to hold, At the wave of whose hand

Up the steep stair they clatter to… In whispered merriment they pierce… Of Time’s sweet mercy, who with h… Did seek in vain to stay their res… Their peeping eyes and prying fing…

[IN MEMORY OF PATRICK P… I saw a dreamer, I saw a poet, On the red battle-field fell my sl… ‘Lover of birds and flowers, singe… Dying with men of war, what do you…

I shall rest no more on the fragra… Under great trees where the green… Scents of the lime; and the wild r… Sweets to the breeze with their ce… I shall count no more, as I linge…

And I had died before the spring… When winter’s kiss upon the fields… And no small seed had broken up th… Then had I died, whose earthly ho… I should have liked to see the sno…

I come from a burial; Hush! let me be I have put away my love, Fair exceedingly. Ah! the little gold curls

I hear the thrush and blackbird si… And blackbird sing. Their honied voices wake the sleep… The slothful spring, And as each lovely note sighs fort…

All in a bleak December My heart had summer-time; Crouched by the glowing ember, We found an Eden’s clime. The storm that shook the casements

A Ballad of Good Intentions Four children played by an old oak… Big John and James and little Be… And, threading a chain of daisies… On the leaf-brown sward knelt Ger…

Is there no bond of blood to you,… Who have called her ours, the anci… And here we hope to rest from Lif… Building of souls our patriotic N… Can we not stand amongst the purpl…

Lift me up from this bed of sickne… I am going out to meet the summer. I will run into the arms of Sunsh… And be so comforted, the first new… “I will lift you up,' said the bla…

Love lit a beacon in thine eyes, And I out in the storm, And lo! the night had taken wings; I dream me safe and warm. Love lit a beacon in thine eyes,

Half seated on a mossy crag, Half crouching in the heather; I found a little Irish maid, All in June’s golden weather. Like some fond hand that loved the…