The sun sinks scarlet as a barberr… Far off at sea one vessel lifts a… Hurrying to harbor from the coming… That banks the west above a choppy… The sun is gone; the fide is flowi…

THE Season speaks this year of l… Confusing words of strife, Suggesting weeds instead of fruits… In all Earth’s bowers. With heart of Jael, face of Ruth,

From out the hills where twilight… Above the shadowy pasture lands, With strained and strident cry, Beneath pale skies that sunset ban… The bull-bats fly.

White roses, like a mist Upon a terraced height, And 'mid the roses, opal, moonbeam… A fountain falling white. And as the full moon flows,

Unto what end, I ask, unto what e… Is all this effort, this unrest an… Work that avails not? strife and m… Ambitions vain that rack our heart… Did labor but avail! did it defend

There was a man rode into town one… Barefooted, hatless, and without a… It was the dead of winter. Round… Were marks of violence: bits and w… Bristled his beard and hair. From…

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

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,

All the poppies in their beds Nodding crumpled crimson heads; And the larkspurs, in whose ears Twilight hangs, like twinkling tea… Sleepy jewels of the rain;

Clad on with glowing beauty and th… Benign, of calm maturity, she stan… Among her meadows and her orchard-… And on her mellowing gardens and h… Out of the ripe abundance of her h…

Like colored lanterns swung in El… Wild morning-glories light the tan… And, like the rosy rockets of the… Burns the sloped crimson of the ca…

Whether it be that we in letters t… The pure exactness of a wood bird’… And name it song; or with the brus… The high perfection of a wildflowe… Or mold in difficult marble all th…

From hill and hollow, side by side… The shadows came, like dreams, to… And watch, mysterious, sunset-eyed… The wool-winged moths and bats afl… And the lone owl that cried and cr…

THE Day brims high its ewer Of blue with starry light, And crowns as King that hewer Of clouds (which take their flight Across the sky) old Night.

There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…