Mark the day white, on which the… Eugenio and Egeria have a child. On whom abundant grace kind Jove… If she but copy either parent’s pa… Then, Muses! long devoted to her…

Oh, I would live in a dairy, And its Colin I would be, And many a rustic fairy Should churn the milk with me. Or the fields should be my pleasur…

Beyond the need of weeping, Beyond the reach of hands, May she be quietly sleeping, In what dim nebulous lands? Ah, she who understands!

Let be at last; give over words an… Vainly were all things said: Better at last to find a place for… Only dead. Silence were best, with songs and…

Come hither, child, and rest, This is the end of day, Behold the weary West! Sleep rounds with equal zest Man’s toil and children’s play,

I would not alter thy cold eyes, Nor trouble the calm fount of spee… With aught of passion or surprise. The heart of thee I cannot reach: I would not alter thy cold eyes!

Why is there in the least touch of… More grace than other women’s lips… If love is but a slave in fleshly… Of flesh to flesh, wherever love m… Why choose vain grief and heavy-he…

When I am old, And sadly steal apart, Into the dark and cold, Friend of my heart! Remember, if you can,

You would have understood me, had… I could have loved you, dear! as w… Had we not been impatient, dear! a… Always to disagree. What is the use of speech? Silenc…

Who is this mortal Who ventures to-night To woo an immortal, Cold, cold the moon’s light For sleep at this portal,

I was always a lover of ladies’ ha… Or ever mine heart came here to tr… For the sake of your carved white… The tapering fingers, the dainty w… The hands of a girl were what I k…

By the pale marge of Acheron, Me thinks we shall pass restfully, Beyond the scope of any sun. There all men hie them one by one, Far from the stress of earth and s…

Even now the fragrant darkness of… Had brushed my cheek; and once, in… Her hand upon my hand lay tranquil… What things unspoken trembled in t… Always I know, how little severs…

Come not before me now, O visiona… Me tempest-tost, and borne along l… Troublous and dark and stormy thou… Not here and now may we commingle… Lest the loud anguish of the water…

Love’s aftermath! I think the tim… That we must gather in, alone, apa… The saddest crop of all the crops… Love’s aftermath. Ah, sweet,—sweet yesterday, the te…