I CAME upon a pool that shone, Clear, emerald-like, among the hil… That seemed old wizards round a st… Of magic that a vision thrills. And as I leaned and looked, it se…

Hearts, that have cheered us ever,… With words that helped us on the r… The hard, long road of life to who… More than the heart can ever hope… Are they not touchstones, soul-tra…

When on the leaves the rain persis… And every gust brings showers down… When all the woodland smokes with… I take the old road out of town Into the hills through which it tw…

Little boy sleepy won’t go to bed, Though the Sand Man came an hour… And sand all under his eyelids spr… Though his eyes are heavy and heav… And his little tired feet seem mad…

MASTER of human harmonies, wher… And harp and violin and flute acco… Each instrument confessing you its… Within the deathless orchestra of… Albeit at times your music may sou…

They are the wise who look before, Nor fear to look behind; Who in the darkness still ignore Pale shadows of the mind. Who, having lost, though loss be m…

Who knows the things they dream, a… Or feel, who lie beneath the groun… Perhaps the flowers, the leaves, a… That close them round. In spring the violets may spell

With rod and line I took my way That led me through the gossip tre… Where all the forest was asway With hurry of the running breeze. I took my hat off to a flower

Out in Oldham County once Met a boy who showed me how He could milk an old red cow. Yes; he was n’t any dunce. Put me on an old-gray mare;

With moon-white hearts that held a… I gathered wild-flowers in a dream… And shaped a woman, whose sweet bl… Was odour of the wildwood bud. From dew, the starlight arrowed th…

There is a place I search for sti… Sequestered as the world of dreams… A bushy hollow, and a hill That whispers with descending stre… Cool, careless waters, wandering d…

It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stre… And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes

THERE is a smell of roses in the… Tea-roses, dead of bloom; An invalid, she sits there in the… And contemplates her doom. The pattern of the paper, and the…

In dim samite was she bedight, And on her hair a hoop of gold, Like fox-fire in the tawn moonligh… Was glimmering cold. With soft gray eyes she gloomed an…

Hey, little boy, little boy, come… Hey, little boy, little boy, Andy… Hey, little boy, little boy, can i… Your mouth is crumbed with candy?’ ‘What’s that to you? what’s that t…