Autumn went faintly flying o'er the land, Trailing her golden hair along the West, Weeping to find her waving fields despoil'd, Her yellow leaves all floating on the wind:...
Had I wist, when life was like a warm wind playing Light and loud through sundawn and the dew's bright trust, How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying 'Had I wist' - ...
Had we not met, the brooding woe And all the griefs that greater grow, Might not have been, and happy-wise Our lives have laughed with lullabies And quaffed such joys as few may know. ...
Had you wept; had you but neared me with a frail uncertain ray, Dewy as the face of the dawn, in your large and luminous eye, Then would have come back all the joys the tidings had slain that day,...
Hail, Zaragoza! If with unwet eye We can approach, thy sorrow to behold, Yet is the heart not pitiless nor cold; Such spectacle demands not tear or sigh. These desolate remains are trophies high...
Half the people in the world love the other half, half the people hate the other half. Must I because of this half and that half go wandering and changing ceaselessly like rain in its cycle,...
I thought it was the little bed I slept in long ago; A straight white curtain at the head, And two smooth knobs below. I thought I saw the nursery fire, And in a chair well-known...
Hands wrought under the dark veil… “What is it that makes you so pale and faint?” - I’m afraid that I made him drunk with the ale Of bitter anguish and torturous pain....
O Where is our Mother of Peace Nodding her purple hood? For the winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood. I would that the death-pale deer Had come through the mountain side,...
First, may the hand of bounty bring Into the daily offering Of full provision such a store, Till that the cook cries: Bring no more. Upon your hogsheads never fall A drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;...
Out of the lights and roar of cities, Drifting down like a spark in Spoon River, Burnt out with the fire of drink, and broken, The paramour of a woman I took in self-contempt,...
To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley, You have wearily listened, I fear; As yet not an answer you've given Save a shrug, or an ill-concealed sneer; Pray, why, when I talk of my marriage,...
I was just turned twenty-one, And Henry Phipps, the Sunday-school superintendent, Made a speech in Bindle's Opera House. "The honor of the flag must be upheld," he said,...
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor With the slow motion of a summer's cloud, And now, as he approached a vassal's door, "Bring forth another horse!" he cried aloud. ...
The dirge is played, the throbbing death-peal rung, The sad-voiced requiem sung; On each white urn where memory dwells The wreath of rustling immortelles Our loving hands have hung,...