Works

This crosstree here
Doth Jesus bear,
Who sweet'ned first
The death accurs'd.
Here all things ready are, make haste, make haste away;...

This Lawn, a carpet all alive
With shadows flung from leaves, to strive
In dance, amid a press
Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields
Of Worldlings reveling in the fields
Of strenuous idleness;
...

This life is all checkered with pleasures and woes,
That chase one another like waves of the deep,--
Each brightly or darkly, as onward it flows,
Reflecting our eyes, as they sparkle or weep....

This section is a Christmas tree:
Loaded with pretty toys for you.
Behold the blocks, the Noah's arks,
The popguns painted red and blue.
No solemn pine-cone forest-fruit,...

This world is not conclusion;
A sequel stands beyond,
Invisible, as music,
But positive, as sound.
It beckons and it baffles;
Philosophies don't know,
And through a riddle, at the last,...

Through narrow be that old Man's cares, and near,
The poor old Man is greater than he seems:
For he hath waking empire, wide as dreams;
An ample sovereignty of eye and ear....

What wondrous noise is heard around!
Through heaven exulting voices sound,

A mighty army marches on
By thousand millions follow'd, lo,
To yon dark place makes haste to go
...

"Love your neighbor as yourself,"
So the parson preaches;
That's one-half the Decalogue.
So the Prayer-book teaches.
Half my duty I can do
With but little labor,
For with all my heart and soul...

High in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
Magnus [1] his ample front sublime uprears:
Plac'd on his chair of state, he seems a God,
While Sophs [2] and Freshmen tremble at his nod;...

Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand;
"Hark-ye," said he, "'tis an odd story, this,
About the crows!" "I don't know what it is,"...

1.
Three children sliding on the ice,
All on a summer's day,
As it fell out, they all fell in,
The rest they ran away.

2.
Now, had these children been at home,
Or sliding on dry ground,...

It was the fairy of the place,
Moving within a little light,
Who touched with dim and shadowy grace
The conflict at its fever height.

It seemed to whisper 'Quietness,'...

Sir Wit, who is so much esteem'd,

And who is worthy of all honour,
Saw Beauty his superior deem'd

By folks who loved to gaze upon her;
At this he was most sorely vex'd.
...

All her corn-fields rippled in the sunshine,
All her lovely vines, sweets-laden, bowed;
Yet some weeks to harvest and to vintage:
When, as one man's hand, a cloud...

These fresh beauties, we can prove,
Once were virgins, sick of love,
Turn'd to flowers: still in some,
Colours go and colours come.

I began to see old lanterns, books
opening/folding within your eyes;
a pale light running as silver
to the sea.

Then crestfallen leaves dangling
as from fishhooks or the autumn moon's...

To create dream -
the pearl thru wine effect,
oil and vinegar viscidity
of giant salad leaves
basking on the
broken picnic table
like so many lemurs
taken to a
Malagasy forest.
...

I serve you not, if you I follow,
Shadowlike, o'er hill and hollow;
And bend my fancy to your leading,
All too nimble for my treading.
When the pilgrimage is done,
And we've the landscape overrun,...

By blacksoil plains burned grey with drought
Where desert shrubs and grasses grow,
Along the Land of Furthest Out
That only Overlanders know.
I dreamed I camped on river grass...

It was my shame, and now it is my boast,
That I have loved you rather more than most.