When the spinning-room was here Came Three Damsels, clothed in wh… With their spindles every night; One and Two and three fair Maiden… Spinning to a pulsing cadence,

Doleful was the land, Dull on, every side, Neither soft n’or grand, Barren, bleak, and wide; Nothing look’d with love;

Within a budding grove, In April’s ear sang every bird hi… But not a song to pleasure my unre… Or touch the tears unwept of bitte… Some spake, methought, with pity,…

I once was a guest at a Nobleman’… Fair was the Bride, but she scarc… And now in our mirth, she had tear… Her former true lover still runs i… Attired like a minstrel, her forme…

I heard the dogs howl in the moonl… I went to the window to see the si… All the Dead that ever I knew Going one by one and two by two. On they pass’d, and on they pass’d…

Is always Age severe? Is never Youth austere? Spring-fruits are sour to eat; Autumn’s the mellow time. Nay, very late in the year,

I’m glad I am alive, to see and f… The full deliciousness of this bri… That’s like a heart with nothing t… The young leaves scarcely tremblin… Rimming the cloudless ether far aw…

A wild west Coast, a little Town, Where little Folk go up and down, Tides flow and winds blow: Night and Tempest and the Sea, Human Will and Human Fate:

Down on the shore, on the sunny sh… Where the salt smell cheers the la… Where the tide moves bright under… And the surge on the glittering st… Where the children wade in the sha…

I thought it was the little bed I slept in long ago; A straight white curtain at the he… And two smooth knobs below. I thought I saw the nursery fire,

A fair witch crept to a young man’… And he kiss’d her and took her for… But a Shape came in at the dead o… And fill’d the room with snowy lig… And he saw how in his arms there l…

Chequer’d with woven shadows as I… Among the grass, blinking the wate… I saw an Echo-Spirit in his bay Most idly floating in the noontide… Slow heaved his filmy skiff, and f…

Hayrick some do spell thy name, And thy verse approves the same; For ’tis like fresh-scented hay,— With country lasses in’t at play.

Saint Margaret’s Eve it did befal… The waves roll so gayly O, The tide came creeping up the wall… Love me true! I opened my gate; who there should…

By the shore, a plot of ground Clips a ruined chapel round, Buttressed with a grassy mound; Where Day and Night and Day go b… And bring no touch of human sound.