I skimmed the strings; I sang quite low; I hoped she would not come or know That the house next door was the one now dittied, Not hers, as when I had played unpitied;...
Fire and wild light of hope and doubt and fear, Wind of swift change, and clouds and hours that veer As the storm shifts of the tempestuous year; Cry wellaway, but well befall the right. ...
JANUARY Hail, January, that bearest here On snowbright breasts the babe-faced year That weeps and trembles to be born. Hail, maid and mother, strong and bright, Hooded and cloaked and shod with white,...
Sighing above, Rustling below, Thorough the woods The winds go. Beneath, dead crowds; Above, life bare; And the besom tempest Sweeps the air: Heart, leave thy woe:...
He listened at the porch that day, To hear the wheel go on, and on; And then it stopped, ran back away, While through the door he brought the sun: But now my spinning is all done. ...
On the wind of January Down flits the snow, Travelling from the frozen North As cold as it can blow. Poor robin redbreast, Look where he comes; Let him in to feel your fire,...
The old gate clicks, and down the walk, Between clove-pink and hollyhock, Still young of face though gray of lock, Among her garden's flowers she goes At evening's close, Deep in her hair a yellow rose....
Bless all them bonny lasses, I' Yorksher born an bred! Ther beauty nooan surpasses, Complete i'th' heart an th' heead. An th' lads, - tho aw've seen monny lands, Ther equal aw ne'er met;...
Blow, ye zephyrs, gentle gales; Gently fill the swelling sails. Neptune, with thy trident long, Trident three-fork'd, trident strong: And ye Nereids fair and gay, Fairer than the rose in May,...
There are four men mowing down by the Isar; I can hear the swish of the scythe-strokes, four Sharp breaths taken: yea, and I Am sorry for what's in store.
He handed his life a poisoned draught, With a scornful smile and a cold, cold glance, And the merry bystanders loudly laughed (For the rollicking world was gay!). ...
Back from a two-years' sentence! And though it had been ten, You think, I were scarred no deeper In the eyes of my fellow-men. "My fellow-men?" Sounds like a satire, You think - and I so allow,...
Two men, well versed in use of arms, Set out, 'tis said, in search of game. Each felt that hunting had its charms, Yet widely differed they in aim. Both felt their need of wholesome food...
Spring at her height on a morn at prime, Sails that laugh from a flying squall, Pomp of harmony, rapture of rhyme - Youth is the sign of them, one and all....
Still the sovereign trees Make the sundawn's breeze More bright, more sweet, more heavenly than it rose, As wind and sun fulfil Their living rapture: still Noon, dawn, and evening thrill...