‘Teach me the wisdom of thy beauty… That, being thus wise, I may aspi… What beauty is, whence, why, and i… Immortal, yet how mortal utterly: For, shrinking loveliness, thy bro…

The tripod flared with a purple sp… And the mist hung emerald in the d… Now he stooped to the lilac flame Over the glare of the amber embers… Thrice to utter no earthly name;

It’s-Oh, for the hills, where the… With a vagabond foot that follows! And a cheer-up hand that he claps… Your arm with the hearty words, '… We’ll soon be out of the hollows,

Like some wild child that laughs a… Impatient of its mother’s arms, The wood brook from the hillside l… Eager to reach the neighboring far… Complaining crystal in its throat

We have sent him seeds of the melo… And nailed a warning upon his door… By the Ku Klux laws we can do no… Down in the hollow, 'mid crib and… The roof of his low-porched house…

Three memories hold us ever With longing and with pain; Three memories Time has never Been able to restrain; That in each life remain

The Alps of the Tyrol are dark wi… Where, foaming under the mountain… The Inn’s long water sounds and s… Beyond, are peaks where the mornin… An icy rose; and the evening leave…

Among the fields the camomile Seems blown mist in the lightning’… Cool, rainy odors drench the air; Night speaks above; the angry smil… Of storm within her stare.

She sleeps; he sings to her. The… And, tired out with too much happi… She fain would have him sing of ol… Quaint songs, that spoke of love i… Her restless soul was straight bes…

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 shadows sit and stand about it… Like uninvited guests and poor; And all the long, hot summer day The grating locust dins its rounde… In one old sycamore.

Morning Her rain-kissed face is fresh as r… Is cool and fresh as a rain-wet le… She glimmers at my window-pane, And all my grief

The west builds high a sepulcher Of cloudy granite and of gold, Where twilight’s priestly hours in… The Day like some great king of o… A censer, rimmed with silver fire,

There was moonlight in the garden… There was scent of pink and peony… When adown the pathway whitely, wh… She came stepping, oh, so lightly, To the old gate made of pickets.

THE SONG-BIRDS? are they flo… The song-birds of the summer-time, That sang their souls into the day… And set the laughing days to rhyme… No catbird scatters through the hu…