Blows the wind to-day, and the sun… Blows the wind on the moors to-day… Where about the graves of the mart… My heart remembers how! Grey recumbent tombs of the dead i…

So shall this book wax like unto a… Fairy with mirrored flowers about… Or like some tarn that wailing cur… Glassing the sallow uplands or bro… And so, as men go down into a dell

Soon our friends perish, Soon all we cherish Fades as days darken —goes as flow… Soon in December Over an ember,

Who comes to—night? We open the d… Who comes? My bursting walls, can… The presences that now together th… Your narrow entry, as with flowers… As with the air of life, the breat…

LATE, O miller, The birds are silent, The darkness falls. In the house the lights are lighte… See, in the valley they twinkle,

AS when the hunt by holt and fiel… Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea’s roar fills us aching ful…

How do you like to go up in a swin… Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest… Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall,

Far `yont amang the years to be When a’ we think, an’ a’ we see, An’ a’ we luve, `s been dung ajee By time’s rouch shouther, An’ what was richt and wrang for m…

For the long nights you lay awake And watched for my unworthy sake: For your most comfortable hand That led me through the uneven lan… For all the story—books you read:

It is not yours, O mother, to com… Not, mother, yours to weep, Though nevermore your son again Shall to your bosom creep, Though nevermore again you watch y…

Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,

TEMPEST tossed and sore afflict… Come to me, all ye that labour; co… Fear no more, O doubting hearted;… Lo, the voice of your redeemer; lo… Here one hour you toil and combat,…

Whenever the moon and stars are se… Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet… A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires a…

WOULDST thou be free? I think… But if thou wouldst, attend this s… When quite contented }thou canst d… Thou shall be free when } And drink a small wine of the marc…

The embers of the day are red Beyond the murky hill. The kitchen smokes: the bed In the darkling house is spread: The great sky darkens overhead,