Crickets calling, Apples falling. Summer dying, Life is flying. So soon over–

‘Yes, Sir, she’s gone at last-'tw… We heard her sigh from her corner,… We were all just busy on breakfast… Had just gone into the larder-but… Right up in the garret, sir, for i…

The solemn light behind the barns, The rising moon, the cricket’s cal… The August night, and you and I - What is the meaning of it all! Has it a meaning, after all?

Brother that ploughs the furrow I… God give thee grace, and fruitful… Tis fair sweet earth, be it under… And all about it ever the birds si… Yet do I pray your seed fares not…

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!’

Singers all along the street, Singing every kind of song– One man’s song is honey-sweet, One man’s song is hammer-strong; Yet, however sweet the singing,

Dear city in the moonlight dreamin… How changed and lovely is your fac… Where is the sordid busy scheming That filled all day the market-pla… Was it but fancy that a rabble

Beloved, I would tell a ghostly t… That hides beneath the simple name… Wild beyond hope the news—the dead… The shapes that slept, their breat… Ascend from out sarcophagus and ur…

As in the woodland I walk, many a… How from the dross and the drift t… And the fires quenched in October… How foulness grows fair with the s… of sleets and snows,

The lawless love that would not be… The love that waited, and in waiti… The love that met and mated, satis… Ah, love, ’twas good to climb forb… Who would not follow where his Ju…

Fragoletta, blessed one, What think you of the light of the… Do you think the dark was best, Lying snug in mother’s breast? Ah! I knew that sweetness, too,

Spake the Lord Christ-'I will ar… It seemed a saying void and vain– How shall a dead man rise again!- Vain as our tears, vain as our cri… Not one of all the little band

To James Ashcroft Noble, Poet and Critic, a small acknowle… unforgotten kindness Inscriptions Poet, a truce to your song!