When the spring comes again, will… Three springs I watched and waite… And listened for your voice upon t… I sought for you in many a hidden… Saying, ‘She must be there.’

When the long day has faded to its… The flowers gone, and all the sing… And there is no companion left sav… Ah! there is one, Though in her grave she lies this…

(FOR MR, G. F. WATTS’S P… Mammon is this, of murder and of g… To-day, to-morrow, and ever from o… Th’ Almighty God, and King of ev… Man ‘neath his foot, and woman ’ne…

I am so fair that wheresoe’er I w… Men yearn with strange desire to k… Stretch out their hands to touch m… And women follow me from place to… A poet writing honey of his dear

I crossed the orchard, walking hom… The rising moon was at my back, The apples and the moonlight fell Together on the railroad track. Then, speeding through the evening…

The gods are there, they hide thei… From you that will not kneel— Worship, and they reveal, Call—and ’tis they! They have not changed, nor moved f…

I saw him in a picture, and I fel… He stood in line, The man ‘for mine,’ A tall silk-hatted 'guy’— Right on the call,

Wild bird, I stole you from your… And cannot find your nest again; To hear you chirp a little while I wrung your mother’s heart with p… And here you sit and droop and die…

Once we met, and then there came Like a Pentecostal flame, A word; And I said not, Only thought,

The sun is weary, for he ran So far and fast to-day; The birds are weary, for who sang So many songs as they? The bees and butterflies at last

What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears

I dwell, with all things great and… The green earth and the lustral ai… The sacred spaces of the sea, Day in, day out, companion me. Pure-faced, pure-thoughted, folk a…

I had no where to go, I had no money to spend: ‘O come with me,’ the Beaver said… ‘I live at the world’s end.’ ‘Does the world ever end!’

Only a breath-hardly a breath! Th… Is still a huddled alabaster floor Of shelving ice and shattered slab… Stern wreckage of the fiercely fro… Gleaming in mailed wastes of white…

On drives the road-another mile! a… Time’s horses gallop down the less… O why such haste, with nothing at… Fain are we all, grim driver, to d… And stretch with lingering feet th…