The days that clothed white limbs… And rocked the red rose on their b… Have passed with amber-sandaled fe… Into the ruby-gated west. These were the days that filled th…

Here is a tale for infants and old… There was a man who gathered rags;… Who lived alone: with no one ever… And this old man was very fond of… His house, a ruin, so the tale reh…

Here is a tale for poets and for p… There was a bagpipe once, that whe… And droned vile discords, notes th… Nasal and harsh, outbraying all th… And then the thing assumed another…

Deep with divine tautology, The sunset’s mighty mystery Again has traced the scroll-like w… With hieroglyphs of burning gold: Forever new, forever old,

In her wimple of wind and her slip… The twilight comes like a little g… Herding her owls with many’tu-whoo… Her little brown owls in the woodl… Where dimly she walks in her whisp…

There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…

An Oldham-County Weather Philoso… ‘Who is Corncob Jones?’ you say. Beateningest man and talkingest: Talk and talk th’ enduring day, Never even stop to rest,

WHEN pearl and gold, o’er deeps… The moon curves, silvering the dus… As in a garden, dreaming, A lily slips its dewy husk A firefly in its gleaming,—

Sunlight and shrill cicada and the… Slow, sleepy kissing of the sea an… And rumor of the wind. The mornin… A sullen face of fog that lifted s… Letting her eyes gleam through of…

Do you know the way that goes Over fields of rue and rose, Warm of scent and hot of hue, Roofed with heaven’s bluest blue, To the Vale of Dreams Come True?

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,

From 'Wild Thorn and Lily’ Among the white haw-blossoms, wher… Droned under drifts of dogwood and… The redbird, like a crimson blosso… Against the snow-white bosom of th…

I Heard the hylas in the bottomla… Piping a reed-note in the praise o… The South-wind brought the music… As 't were a hundred strands Of guttural gold smitten of elfin…

With anxious eyes and dry, expecta… Within the sculptured stoa by the… All day she waited while, like gho… Long clouds rolled over Paphos: t… Hung in the sultry poppy, half asl…

When dusk is drowned in drowsy dre… And slow the hues of sunset die; When firefly and moth go by, And in still streams the new moon… Another moon and sky: