I. What was he doing, the great god Pan, Down in the reeds by the river ? Spreading ruin and scattering ban, Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, And breaking the golden lilies afloat...
Amy Margaret's five years old, Amy Margaret's hair is gold, Dearer twenty-thousand-fold Than gold, is Amy Margaret. "Amy" is friend, is "Margaret" The pearl for crown or carkanet?...
His face was sad; some shadow must have hung Above his soul; its folds, now falling dark, Now almost bright; but dark or not so dark, Like cloud upon a mount, 'twas always there --...
As they who watch by sick-beds find relief Unwittingly from the great stress of grief And anxious care, in fantasies outwrought From the hearth's embers flickering low, or caught...
The barberry burns, the rose-hip crimsons warm, And haw and sumach hedge the hill with fire, Down which the road winds, worn of hoof and tire, Only the blueberry-picker plods now from the farm....
Long had our dull forefathers slept supine, Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful Nine; Till Chaucer first, the merry bard, arose, And many a story told in rhyme and prose....
Picture and book remain, An acre of green grass For air and exercise, Now strength of body goes; Midnight, an old house Where nothing stirs but a mouse.
We bought a volume of Anacreon, Defaced, mishandled, little to admire, And yet its rusty clasps kept guard upon The sweetest songs, the songs of young desire Like that great song once sung by Solomon. ...
Born I was to be old, And for to die here; After that, in the mould Long for to lie here. But before that day comes, Still I be bousing; For I know, in the tombs There's no carousing.
Still, as the fleeting seasons change, From joy to joy poor mortals range, And as the year pursues its round, One pleasure's lost, another found; Time, urging on his envious course,...
I must Not trust Here to any; Bereav'd, Deceiv'd By so many: As one Undone By my losses; Comply Will I With my crosses; Yet still I will Not be grieving,...