How shall it be with them that day When God demands of Earth His pa… With them who make a god of clay And gold and put all truth away. Shall not they see the lightning-r…

A Tortured tree in a huddled holl… On whose gnarled boughs three leav… A strip of path that the hunters f… That leads to fields of the wind’s… And a rain-washed hill with the wi…

Why speak of Giamschid rubies Whence rosy starlight drips? I know a richer crimson, The ruby of her lips. Why speak of pearls of Oman

Squat-nosed and broad, of big and… A tavern visage, apoplexy haunts, All pimple-puffed: the Falstaff-l… Of fat debauchery, whose veined ch… A flabby purple: rusty-spurred he…

Small twilight singer Of dew and mist: thou ghost-gray,… Of dusk’s dim glimmer, How chill thy note sounds; how thy… Vibrate, soft-sighing,

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…

THE moon, a circle of gold, O’er the crowded housetops rolled, And peeped in an attic, where, ‘Mid sordid things and bare, A sick child lay and gazed

She mutters and stoops by the lone… The little green leaves are hushed… An owl in an oak cries’Who-oh-who… And a fox barks back where the moo… The moss that sways to a sudden br…

When dusk falls cool as a rained-o… And a tawny tower the twilight sho… With the crescent moon, the silver… new moon in a space that glows, A turret window that grows alight;

Below, the tawny Tagus swept Past royal gardens, breathing balm… Upon his couch the monarch slept; The world was still; the night was… Gray, Gothic-gated, in the ray

You have shut me out from your tea… Over the man laid low and hoary. Listen to me now: I am no thief! You have shut me out from your tea… Listen to me, I will tell my stor…

So Love is dead, the Love we knew… And in the sorrow of our hearts’ h… A lute lies broken and a flower fa… Love’s house stands empty and his… Lone in dim places, where sweet vo…

From 'One Day and Another’ What little things are those That hold our happiness! A smile, a glance, a rose Dropped from her hair or dress;

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…

The old remain, the young are gone… The farm dreams lonely on the hill… From early eve to early dawn A cry goes with the whippoorwill ‘The old remain, the young are gon…