O what has made that sudden noise? What on the threshold stands? It never crossed the sea because John Bull and the sea are friends; But this is not the old sea Nor this the old seashore....
We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never alone. It was a spectral housekeeping Where fell no jarring tone,...
There was no wind, and yet the air Seemed suddenly astir; There were no forms, and yet all space Seemed thronged with growing hosts. They came from Where, and from Nowhere, Like phantoms as they were;...
Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalised his pen; Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then; Gave him the magical genius touch; God-given power to gouge out, fling...
When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the moonlight flies, And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies...
Last night it snowed; and Nature fell asleep. Forest and field lie tranced in gracious dreams Of growth, for ghosts of leaves long dead, me-seems, Hover about the boughs; and wild winds sweep...
When we were children, long ago, And crept to bed at close of day, With backward glance and footstep slow, Though all aweary with our play, Do you remember how the room -...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The floor was a-tremble, the door was a-jar, White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar....
Why, as to that, said the engineer, Ghosts ain't things we are apt to fear; Spirits don't fool with levers much, And throttle-valves don't take to such; And as for Jim, What happened to him...
O'er unreclaimed suburban clays Some years ago were hobblin' An elderly ghost of easy ways, And an influential goblin. The ghost was a sombre spectral shape, A fine old five-act fogy,...
Here's the tale my father told, Walking in the park one night, When the stars shone big and bright, And the autumn wind blew cold: Once a giant lived of old In a far-off country, far...
In times when madcap Nature in her verve Conceived each day a hatch of monstrous spawn, I might have lived near some young giantess, Like a voluptuous cat before a queen ...
From what sad star I know not, but I found Myself new-born below the coppice rail, No bigger than the dewdrops and as round, In a soft sward, no cattle might assail. ...