Now let no charitable hope Confuse my mind with images Of eagle and of antelope: I am by nature none of these. I was, being human, born alone;

The rain’s cold grains are silver-… Sharp as golden sands, A bell is clanging, people sway Hanging by their hands. Supple hands, or gnarled and stiff…

For this you’ve striven Daring, to fail: Your sky is riven Like a tearing veil. For this, you’ve wasted

Ah, love, within the shadow of the… The laurels are cut down; some oth… May bear the classic wreath which… And find the burden honorable and… Have we not passed the laurels as…

Let us quarrel for these reasons: You detest the salt which seasons My speech . . . and all my lights… In the cold poison of your doubt. I love Shelley . . . you love Kea…

The sailorman’s child And the girl of the witch— They can’t be defiled By touching pitch. The sailorman’s son

The woman in the pointed hood And cloak blue-gray like a pigeon’… Whose orchard climbs to the balsam… Has done a cruel thing. To her back door-step came a ghost…

As I was lying in my bed I heard the church-bell ring; Before one solemn word was said A bird began to sing. I heard a dog begin to bark

BARCAROLE ON THE STYX<… Fair youth with the rose at your l… A riddle is hid in your eyes; Discard conversational quips, Give over elaborate disguise.

First Traveller: What’s that lyin… Second Traveller: A crooked stick… First Traveller: What’s it worth,… Second Traveller: Isn’t this a ri… First Traveller: No, a trick.

I was always afraid of Somes’s Po… Not the little pond, by which the… Where laughing boys catch alewives… In brown, bright shallows; but the… There, where the frost makes all t…

Once, when my husband was a child,… To his father’s table, one who cal… In sunbleached corduroys paler tha… His look was grave and kind; he bo… Of the dead singer of Senlac, and…

Here’s a wonderful thing, A humming-bird’s wing In hammered gold, And store well chosen Of snowflakes frozen

Say not of beauty she is good, Or aught but beautiful, Or sleek to doves’ wings of the wo… Her wild wings of a gull. Call her not wicked; that word’s t…