I am restless. I am athirst for f… My soul goes out in a longing to t… O Great Beyond, O the keen call… I forget, I ever forget, that I h… I am eager and wakeful, I am a st…
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
In the dusky path of a dream I we… Her house stood at the end of a de… In the evening breeze her pet peac… She set her lamp down by the porta… She raised her large eyes to my fa…
On many an idle day have I grieve… But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my… Hidden in the heart of things thou… buds into blossoms, and ripening f…
I thought that my voyage had come… at the last limit of my power,—tha… that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter… But I find that thy will knows no…
Why did he choose to come to my do… As I come in and out I pass by hi… I know not if I should speak to h… The cloudy nights in July are dar… He weaves his songs with fresh tun…
I try to weave a wreath all the mo… You sit there watching me in secre… Ask those eyes, darkly planning mi… I try to sing a song, but in vain. A hidden smile trembles on your li…
I hunt for the golden stag. You may smile, my friends, but I… I run across hills and dales, I w… You come and buy in the market and… I have no care in my heart; all my…
Bless this little heart, this whit… heaven for our earth. He loves the light of the sun, he… mother’s face. He has not learned to despise the…
Where the mind is without fear and… Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broke… domestic walls; Where words come out from the dept…
I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy box—a few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the turbulen...
Free me from the bonds of your sweetness, my love! Nor more of th… wine of kisses. This mist of heavy incense stifles my heart.
You are the evening cloud floating… I paint you and fashion you ever w… You are my own, my own, Dweller i… Your feet are rosy-red with the gl… Your lips are bitter-sweet with th…
I asked nothing, only stood at the edge of the wood behind the tree. Languor was still upon the eyes of the dawn, and the dew in the ai… The lazy smell of the damp grass
WHEN I go alone at night to my l… It is my own anklets that grow lou… When I sit on my balcony and list… It is my own heart that beats wild… When my love comes and sits by my…