This was the woman; what now of th… But pass him. If he comes beneath… He shall be crushed until he canno… Or, being callous, haply till he c… But he is nothing:—nothing? Only…

What may the woman labour to confe… There is about her mouth a nervous… ’Tis something to be told, or hidd… I get a glimpse of hell in this mi… She has desires of touch, as if to…

Now the frog, all lean and weak, Yawning from his famished sleep, Water in the ditch doth seek, Fast as he can stretch and leap: Marshy king-cups burning near

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

Earth was not Earth before her so… Nor Beauty Beauty ere young Love… And thou when I lay hidden wast a… At city-windows, touching eyelids… To none by her fresh wingedness en…

[From the Mireio of Mistral] A hundred mares, all white! their… Like mace-reed of the marshy plain… Thick-tufted, wavy, free o’ the sh… And when the fiery squadron rears

O skylark! I see thee and call th… Thy wings bear thee up to the brea… I see thee no more, but thy song i… The tongue of the heavens to me! Thus are the days when I was a bo…

She can be as wise as we, And wiser when she wishes; She can knit with cunning wit, And dress the homely dishes. She can flourish staff or pen,

When comes the lighted day for men… Life’s meaning, with the work befo… Till this good gift of breath from… Earth will not hear her children’s… Deplore the chieftain fall’n in so…

Not yet had History’s Aetna smoke… And low the Gallic Giantess lay e… While overhead in ordered set and… Her kingly crowns immutably defile… Effulgent on funereal piled

The silence of preluded song - AEolian silence charms the woods; Each tree a harp, whose foliaged s… Are waiting for the master’s touch To sweep them into storms of joy,

Give to imagination some pure ligh… In human form to fix it, or you sh… The devils with that hideous human… Imagination urging appetite! Thus fallen have earth’s greatest…

Close Echo hears the woodman’s ax… To double on it, as in glee, With clap of hands, and little lac… Of meaning in her repartee. For all shall fall,

See’st thou a Skylark whose glist… Quiver like pulses beneath the mel… Deep in the heart—yearning distanc… Wisdom and beauty and love are the…

O nightingale! how hast thou learn… The note of the nested dove? While under thy bower the fern han… And no cloud hovers above! Rich July has many a sky