All day the clouds hung ashen with… And through the snow the muffled w… The day seemed drowned in grief to… Like some old hermit whose last be… At eve the wind woke, and the snow…

Hope on, dear Heart, and you will… The walls of worry fade and flee; And sane of soul and sound of mind… You ‘ll go your way of life and fi… The paths, once barren, suddenly

There is a hall in every house, Behind whose wainscot gnaws the mo… Along whose sides are empty rooms, Peopled with dreams and ancient do… When down this hall you take your…

Winds that cavern heaven and the c… And canyon with cerulean blue, Great rifts down which the stormy… Like some bright seraph, who, Mailed in intensity of silver mail…

Wild clouds roll up, slag-dark and… And in the oaks the sere wind sobs… Weird as a word a man before he di… Mutters beneath his breath yet fea… The rain drives down; and by each…

Would I could talk as the flowers… To my soul! and the stars, in thei… Through Heaven! and tell to the h… The things that they say, so all m… The dreams they dream, and have to…

The gods are dead; but still for m… Lives on in wildwood brook and tre… Each myth, each old divinity. For me still laughs among the rock… The Naiad; and the Dryad’s locks

Beyond lost seas of summer she Dwelt on an island of the sea, Last scion of that dynasty, Queen of a race forgotten long.- With eyes of light and lips of son…

The doubtful dawn came dim and wan… And dimmer grew the day: The kildee whistled among the weed… The blue crane clanged in the rive… And a mist fell wild and gray.

COME, let’s climb into our attic… In our house that’s old and gray! Life, you’re old and I’m rheumati… And—it’s close of day. Lay aside your rags and tatters,

We were a crew of what you please, Men with the lust of gold gone mad… Dutch and Yankee and Portuguese, With a nigger or two from Trinida… The scum of the Caribbees:

Nevermore at doorways that are bar… Shall the madcap wind knock and th… Nor the circle which thou once did… Shine with footsteps of the neighb… Visitors for whom thou oft didst h…

In her wimple of wind and her slip… The twilight comes like a little g… Herding her owls with many’tu-whoo… Her little brown owls in the woodl… Where dimly she walks in her whisp…

Beyond the barley meads and hay, What was the light that beckoned t… That made her sweet lips smile and… ‘Oh, busk me in a gown of May, And knot red poppies in my hair.’

Within the hollowed hand of God, Blood-red they lie, the dice of fa… That have no time nor period, And know no early and no late. Postpone you can not, nor advance