Ah, holy midnight of the soul, When stars alone are high; When winds are resting at their go… And sea-waves only sigh! Ambition faints from out the will;

Job XIV. 13-15. RONDEL. Would that thou hid me in the grav… And kept me with death’s gaoler-ca… Until thy wrath away should wear

What would you see, if I took you… My little aerie-stair? You would see the sky like a clear… Turned upside down in the air. What would you do, up my aerie-sta…

What shall I be?-I will be a knig… Walled up in armour black, With a sword of sharpness, a hamme… And a spear that will not crack– So black, so blank, no glimmer of…

O Earth, Earth, Earth, I am dying for love of thee, For thou hast given me birth, And thy hands have tended me. I would fall asleep on thy breast

A thousand houses of poesy stand a… They fill the earth and they fill… air; But to-night they have shut their… windows fair,

Had I the grace to win the grace Of some old man in lore complete, My face would worship at his face, And I sit lowly at his feet. Had I the grace to win the grace

’Tis not the violent hands alone t… The curse, the ravage, and the dow… Although to these full oft the yaw… Owes deadly surfeit; but a keener… A more immortal agony will cling

They all were looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them… Thou cam’st a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O son of man, to right my lot

Look! look there! Send your eyes across the gray By my finger-point away Through the vaporous, fumy air. Beyond the air, you see the dark?

The fact which suggested this poem… Blue sky above, blue sea below, Far off, the old Nile’s mouth, ’Twas a blue world, wherein did bl… A soft wind from the south.

Beautiful mother is busy all day, So busy she neither can sing nor s… But lovely thoughts, in a ceaseles… Through her eyes, and her ears, an… Motion, sight, and sound, and scen…

Where the bud has never blown Who for scent is debtor? Where the spirit rests unknown Fatal is the letter. In thee, Jesus, Godhead-stored,

When I look back upon my life nig… Nigh spent, although the stream as… I more of follies than of sins rep… Less for offence than Love’s shor… With self, O Father, leave me not…

In that high country whither thou… Right noble friend, thou walkest w… The gathered great of many a hundr… Few are left like thee-few, I say… Else were thy England soon a Baby…