Rock and root and fern and flower They had led him for an hour To the inmost forest, where, In a hollow, green with moss, That the deep ferns trailed across…

The sun sinks scarlet as a barberr… Far off at sea one vessel lifts a… Hurrying to harbor from the coming… That banks the west above a choppy… The sun is gone; the fide is flowi…

Non numero horas nisi serenas When Fall drowns morns in mist, i… In soul I am a part of it; A portion of its humid beams, A form of fog, I seem to flit

Beyond the barley meads and hay, What was the light that beckoned t… That made her sweet lips smile and… ‘Oh, busk me in a gown of May, And knot red poppies in my hair.’

How many things, that we would rem… Sweet or sad, or great or small, Do our minds forget! and how one t… One little thing endures o’er all! For many things have I forgotten,

Masks Death rides black-masked to-night;… Madness beside him brandishes a to… The peaceful farmhouse with its vi… Lies in their way. Death lifts a…

Into the sunset’s turquoise marge The moon dips, like a pearly barge Enchantment sails through magic se… To faeryland Hesperides, Over the hills and away.

Christmas Eve is here at last. And I’m happy as can be. Going to have a Christmas-tree, And more toys than any past Christmas saw or ever had,

I can’t get up with the chickens; I can’t get up at dark: And what do I care for the early… And what do I care for the lark? I can’t do this or that thing;

John-A-Dreams and Harum-Scarum Came a-riding into town: At the Sign o’ the Jug-and-Jorum There they met with Low-lie-down. Brave in shoes of Romany leather,

Beyond lost seas of summer she Dwelt on an island of the sea, Last scion of that dynasty, Queen of a race forgotten long.- With eyes of light and lips of son…

An old, lost lane; where can it le… To stony pastures, where the weed Purples its plume, or sails its se… And from one knoll, the vetch make… Trailing its glimmering ribbon on,

From the lyrical eclogue 'One Day… Now rests the season in forgetfuln… Careless in beauty of maturity; The ripened roses round brown temp… Fulfills completion in a dreamy gu…

When all the world was Mayday, And all the skies were blue, Young innocence made playday Among the flowers and dew; Then all of life was Mayday,

The Winter Wind, the wind of deat… Who knocked upon my door, Now through the keyhole entereth, Invisible and hoar: He breathes around his icy breath