A friend for you and a friend for… A friend to understand; To cheer the way and help the day With heart as well as hand: With heart as well as hand, my dea…

There is nothing that eases my hea… As the wind that blows from the pu… ’Tis a hand of balsam whose healin… Unburdens my bosom of ills. There is nothing that causes my so…

What ogive gates from gold of Oph… What walls of Pariah, whiter than… What towers of crystal, for the ey… Hast builded on far Islands of Re… Thy cloudy columns, vast, Corinth…

Where, through the myriad leaves o… The daylight falls, beryl and chry… The glamour and the glimmer of its… Seem visible music, tangible melod… Light that is music; music that on…

Was it a dream, Or a whim of the night? Or did they gleam Upon my sight An instant there in the wan moonli…

Let me forget her face! So fresh, so lovely! the abiding p… Of tears and smiles that won my he… Of dreams and moods that moved my… As strong winds stir

Woods of wonder, wonder ways, Where the Faery Piper plays, Bidding all to up and follow Over haunted hill and hollow, And behold again the Fays

In classic beauty, cold, immaculat… A voiceful sculpture, stern and st… Upon her brow deep-chiselled love… That sorrow o’er dead roses in her…

Here where the season turns the la… Among the fields our feet have kno… When we were children who would la… Glad little playmates of the wind… Before came toil and care and year…

A lonely barn, lost in a field of… A fallen fence, where partly hangs… The skies are darkening and the ho… The Indian dusk comes, red in rai… Along a path, which from a woodlan…

Nevermore at doorways that are bar… Shall the madcap wind knock and th… Nor the circle which thou once did… Shine with footsteps of the neighb… Visitors for whom thou oft didst h…

Ere wild-haws, looming in the gloo… Build bolted drifts of breezy bloo… And in the whistling hollow there The red-bud bends, as brown and ba… As buxom Roxy’s up-stripped arm;

Pessimist There is never a thing we dream or… But was dreamed and done in the ag… Everything’s old; there is nothing… And so it will be while the world…

The waterfall, deep in the wood, Talked drowsily with solitude, A soft, insistent sound of foam, That filled with sleep the forest’… Where, like some dream of dusk, sh…

The slender snail clings to the le… Gray on its silvered underside; And slowly, slowlier than the snai… Bright steps, whose ripening touch… Her warm hands berry-dyed,