I HAVE walked a great while over… And I am not tall nor strong. My clothes are wet, and my teeth a… And the way was hard and long. I have wandered over the fruitful…

When my love did what I would not… I could hear his merry voice upon… Crying, “e;Fairest, shut your eye… Love is blind!” When my love said what I say not,…

Many a flower have I seen blossom… Many a bird for me will sing. Never heard I so sweet a singer, Never saw I so fair a thing. She is a bird, a bird that blossom…

When wintry winds are no more hear… And joy’s in every bosom, When summer sings in every bird, And shines in every blossom, When happy twilight hours are long…

Oh, a gallant set were they, As they charged on us that day, A thousand riding like one! Their trumpets crying, And their white plumes flying,

There’s no smoke in the chimney, And the rain beats on the floor; There’s no glass in the window, There’s no wood in the door; The heather grows behind the house…

There never was a face as fair as… A heart as true, a love as pure an… These things endure, if anything e… But, in this jungle, what high hea… Us in its silence, the supreme ser…

Through the sunny garden The humming bees are still; The fir climbs the heather, The heather climbs the hill. The low clouds have riven

Country roads are yellow and brown… We mend the roads in London town. Never a hansom dare come nigh, Never a cart goes rolling by. An unwonted silence steals

The clouds had made a crimson crow… Above the mountains high. The stormy sun was going down In a stormy sky. Why did you let your eyes so rest…

O LET me be in loving nice, Dainty, fine, and o’er precise, That I may charm my charmàd dear As tho’ I felt a secret fear To lose what never can be lost,—

A green eye-and a red-in the dark. Thunder-smoke-and a spark. It is there-it is here-flashed by. Whither will the wild thing fly? It is rushing, tearing thro’ the n…

I sat before my glass one day, And conjured up a vision bare, Unlike the aspects glad and gay, That erst were found reflected the… The vision of a woman, wild

Some hang above the tombs, Some weep in empty rooms, I, when the iris blooms, Remember. I, when the cyclamen

As Christ the Lord was passing by… He came, one night, to a cottage d… He came, a poor man, to the poor; He had no bed whereon to lie. He asked in vain for a crust of br…