Her eyes be like the violets, Ablow in Sudbury lane; When she doth smile, her face is s… As blossoms after rain; With grief I think of my gray hai…

I am too near, too clear a thing f… A flower of mullein in a crack of… The villagers half see, or not at… Part of the weather, like the wind… You love to pluck the different, a…

The little Jesus came to town; The wind blew up, the wind blew do… Out in the street the wind was bol… Now who would house Him from the… Then opened wide a stable door,

Oh, the littles that remain! Scent of mint out in the lane; Flare of window; sound of bees; '€… These, but these. Three times sitting down to bread;

Lydia is gone this many a year, Yet when the lilacs stir, In the old gardens far or near, The house is full of her. They climb the twisted chamber sta…

The spicewood burns along the gray… In moist unchimneyed places, in a… That whips it all before, and all… Into one thick, rude flame, now lo… It is the first, the homeliest thi…

A serviceable thing Is fennel, mint, or balm, Kept in the thrifty calm Of hollows, in the spring; Or by old houses pent.

An English lad, who, reading in a… A ponderous, leathern thing set on… Saw the broad violet of the Egean… Lap at his feet as it were village… Wide was the east; the gusts of mo…

A Colonial Custom Bathsheba came out to the sun, Out to our wallèd cherry-trees; The tears adown her cheek did run, Bathsheba standing in the sun,

Brother of mine, good monk with co… Walled from that world which thou… And pacing thy green close beyond… I send my heart to thee. Down gust-sweet walks, bordered by…

A long the thousand roads of Fran… Now there, and here, swift as a gl… A cloud, a mist blown down the sky… Good Joan of Arc goes riding by. In Domremy at candlelight,

Such special sweetness was about    That day God sent you here, I knew the lavender was out,    And it was mid of year. Their common way the great winds b…

Snatch the departing mood; Make yours its emptying reed, and… Faith in the time, faith in our co… Faith in the least of good: Song cannot fail if these its spir…

To the sweet memory of Sidney Lan… The old house stands deserted, gra… With sharpened gables high in air, And deep-set lattices, all gay With massive arch and framework ra…

Wild rockets blew along the lane; The tall white gentians too were t… The mullein stalks were brave agai… Of blossoms was the bramble bare; And toward the pasture bars below