The song of a nightingale sent thr… Low-lidded with twilight, and tran… Tranced with a tender enchantment;… That wins immortality even while p…

When we have thrown off this old s… So much in need of mending, To sink among the naked mute, Is that, think you, our ending? We follow many, more we lead,

The hundred years have passed, and… Whose name appeased a nation’s fea… As with a hand laid over sea; To thunder through the foeman’s ea… Defeat before his blast of fire;

Fair Mother Earth lay on her back… To gaze her fill on Autumn’s suns… When at a waving of the fallen lig… Sprang realms of rosy fruitage o’e… A lustrous heavenly orchard hung t…

Sword of Common Sense! - Our surest gift: the sacred chain Of man to man: firm earth for trus… In structures vowed to permanence:… Thou guardian issue of the harvest…

Fleck of sky you are, Dropped through branches dark, O my little one, mine! Promise of the star, Outpour of the lark;

How smiles he at a generation rank… In gloomy noddings over life! The… Not he to feed upon a breast untha… Or eye a beauteous face in a crack… But he can spy that little twist o…

Unhappy poets of a sunken prime! You to reviewers are as ball to ba… They shadow you with Homer, knock… With Shakespeare: bludgeons brain… On you the excommunicates of Rhym…

Blue July, bright July, Month of storms and gorgeous blue; Violet lightnings o’er thy sky, Heavy falls of drenching dew; Summer crown! o’er glen and glade

Let Fate or Insufficiency provide Mean ends for men who what they ar… Penned in their narrow day no chan… Save one which strikes the blow to… Our faith is ours and comes not on…

Take thy lute and sing By the ruined castle walls, Where the torrent-foam falls, And long weeds wave: Take thy lute and sing,

Now, this, to my notion, is pleasa… To lie all alone on a ragged heath… Where your nose isn’t sniffing for… But a peat-fire smells like a gard… The cottagers bustle about the doo…

This golden head has wit in it. I… Again, and a far higher life, near… Some women like a young philosophe… Perchance because he is diminutive… For woman’s manly god must not exc…

A wind sways the pines, And below Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines

It ended, and the morrow brought t… Her eyes were guilty gates, that l… By shutting all too zealous for th… Each sucked a secret, and each wor… But, oh, the bitter taste her beau…