At a point where the old road crosses The river, and turns to the right, I'd camped with the team; and the hosses Was all fixed up for the night. I'd been to the town to carry A load to the Cudgegong;...
Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flowers, Singing little Violet's name. 'Mong the green trees was it whispered,...
Will the shadows be lifted to-morrow? - Will the sunshine come ever again? - Will the clouds, that are weeping in sorrow, Their glorious beauty regain? Will the forest stand forth in its greenness? -...
Shadows of the twilight falling On the mountain's brow, To each other birds are calling, In the leafy bough. Where the daisies are a-springing, And the cattle bells are ringing,...
Bring the bright garlands hither, Ere yet a leaf is dying; If so soon they must wither. Ours be their last sweet sighing. Hark, that low dismal chime! 'Tis the dreary voice of Time....
It was a Moorish maiden was sitting by a well, And what the maiden thought of I cannot, cannot tell. When by there rode a valiant knight from the town of Oviedo,...
Waiting in the woodland, watching for my sweet, Thinking every leaf that stirs the coming of her feet, Thinking every whisper the rustle of her gown, How my heart goes up and up, and then goes down and down....
Brook! whose society the Poet seeks, Intent his wasted spirits to renew; And whom the curious Painter doth pursue Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks, And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks;...
Not to the sober and staid, Leading a quiet life, But to men whose paths are laid Ever through storm and strife, Here is a song from me, Sent to the tragic West, Message of sympathy...
The Abbot on the threshold stood, And in his hand the holy rood: Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal, Proud Lorn first answered the appeal; "Thou comest, O holy man,...
Some peoples thinks they ain't no Fairies now No more yet! - But they is, I bet! 'Cause ef They wuzn't Fairies, nen I' like to know Who'd w'ite 'bout Fairies in the books, an' tell...
On sunny slope and beechen swell, The shadowed light of evening fell; And, where the maple's leaf was brown, With soft and silent lapse came down, The glory, that the wood receives,...
On sunny slope and beechen swell The shadowed light of evening fell: And, where the maple's leaf was brown, With soft and silent lapse came down The glory, that the wood receives,...
When the musicians hide away their faces, And all the petals of the rose are shed, And snow is drifting through the happy places, And the last cricket's heart is cold and dead;...
Sweet Insect! that on two small wings doth fly, And, flying, carry on those wings yourself; Methinks I see you, looking from your eye, As tho' you thought the world a wicked elf....
But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance: They howl and writhe in shoals of torment, in fierce flames consuming, In chains of iron and in dungeons circled with ceaseless fires,...