The frogs still cry, ‘Knee-deep!… Among its starlit pools, When dark the woodland lies asleep… And dusk its water cools: The fireflies round its bank of fe…

The flute, whence Summer’s dreamy… Drew music, ripening the pinched k… The burly chestnut and the chinqua… Red-rounding-out the oval haws and… Now Winter crushes to his stormy…

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;

Bald, with old eyes a blood-shot b… Into the Boar’s-Head Inn: the ho… His fulvous face, and all his raim… Of all the stews and all the East… Upon the battered board again he d…

Three miles of trees it is: and I Came through the woods that waited… For the cool summer dusk to come; And lingered there to watch the sk… Up which the gradual splendor clom…

NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,

With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…

First I asked the honeybee, Busy in the balmy bowers; Saying, ‘Sweetheart, tell it me: Have you seen her, honeybee? She is cousin to the flowers

A barren field o’ergrown with thor… It stays for him who waits for hel… Only the soul that makes a plough… Shall know what blossoms underneat…

There’s nothing to do in the morni… Till it’s time to get up and dress… Till my nurse comes in to button a… And dress me more or less: Then it’s time to get up, get up,…

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…

Roaring winds that rocked the crow… High in his eyrie, All night long, and to and fro Swung the cedar and drove the snow Out of the North, have ceased to…

To me all beauty that I see Is melody made visible: An earth-translated state, may be, Of music heard in Heaven or Hell. Out of some love-impassioned strai…

Whenever on the windowpane I hear the fingers of the rain, And in the old trees, near the doo… The wind that whispers more and mo… Bright in the light made by the la…

A Sea of onyx are the skies, Cloud-islanded with fire; Such nacre-colored flame as dyes A sea-shell’s rosy spire; And at its edge one star sinks slo…