A fountain of our sweetest, quick… In fellowship abounding, here subs… And never passage of a cloud on wi… To gladden blue forgets him; near…

The sister Hours in circles linke… Daughters of men, of men the mates… Are gone on flow with the day that… With the night that spanned at gol… Mothers, they leave us, quickening…

Not vainly doth the earnest voice… Call for the thing that is his pur… Fame is the birthright of the livi… To noble impulse Nature puts no b… Nor vainly to the Sphinx thy voic…

Fair and false! No dawn will gree… Thy waking beauty as of old; The little flower beneath thy feet Is alien to thy smile so cold; The merry bird flown up to meet

Two flower-enfolding crystal vases… I love fills daily, mindful but of… And close behind pale morn she, li… Priming our world with light, pour… Clear water in the cup, and into m…

The old grey mother she thrummed o… There is a rose that’s ready; And which of the handsome young me… There’s a rose that’s ready for cl… My daughter, come hither, come hit…

That Garden of sedate Philosophy Once flourished, fenced from passi… A shining spot upon a shaggy map; Where mind and body, in fair junct… Luted their joyful concord; like t…

By this he knew she wept with waki… That, at his hand’s light quiver b… The strange low sobs that shook th… Were called into her with a sharp… And strangled mute, like little ga…

For a Heracles in his fighting ir… follows When ashen he lies and the poets a… done. But to vision alive under shallows…

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…

To sit on History in an easy chai… Still rivalling the wild hordes by… Sure, this beseems a race of lagga… Unwarned by those plain letters sc… If more than hands’ and armsful be…

Full faith I have she holds that… To beauty, Common Sense. To see… With her fair visage an inverted s… Bloom-covered, while the underlids… Would almost wreck the faith; but…

High climbs June’s wild rose, Her bush all blooms in a swarm; And swift from the bud she blows, In a day when the wooer is warm; Frank to receive and give,

Yonder’s the man with his life in… Legs on the march for whatever the… Or to the slaughter, or to the mai… Getting the dole of a dog for pay. Laurels he clasps in the words ‘du…

A breath of the mountains, fresh b… That look with their eye-daring su… The voice of great Nature; sublim… Yet earnest and simple as any swee…