What words of mine can tell the sp… Of garden ways I know so well?- The path that takes me in the spri… Past quince-trees where the bluebi… And peonies are blossoming,

Night and the sea, and heaven over… Cloudless and vast, as ’twere of h… Wherein the facets gleamed of many… And the half-moon a crystal radian… Then suddenly, with burning banner…

No more to strip the roses from The rose-boughs of her porch’s pla… I dreamed last night that I was h… Beside a rose her face. I must have smiled in sleep who kn…

Here went a horse with heavy labor… Along the woodland side; Deep in the clay his iron hoof-mar… Patient and slow, Where with his human burden yester…

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…

In some glad way I know thereof: A garden glows down in my heart, Wherein I meet and often part With many an ancient tale of love A Romeo garden, banked with bloom…

I Have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth than rose or violet That Mayday winds and sunbeams br… Of all we know, past or to come,

The scent of dittany was hot. Its smell intensified the heat: Into his brain it seemed to beat With memories of a day forgot, When she walked with him through t…

Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils.- Awake! arise! and let me see

With anxious eyes and dry, expecta… Within the sculptured stoa by the… All day she waited while, like gho… Long clouds rolled over Paphos: t… Hung in the sultry poppy, half asl…

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…

Spurge and sea-pink, hyssop blue, Dragonhead of purple hue; Catnip, frosted green and gray, With blue butterflies a-sway, These may point you out the way.

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

Last night I lay awake and heard… That madman jongleur of the world… Making wild music: now he seemed t… With harp and lute, so intimately… They were as one; now on a drum he…

Where rise the brakes of bramble t… Wrapped with the trailing rose; Through cane where waters ramble,… Where deep the sword-grass grows, Who knows?