If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.
When in the Scorpion circles low The sun with fainter, dreamier light, And at a far-off hint of snow The giddy swallows take to flight, And droning insects sadly know That cooler falls the autumn night;...
I found her out there On a slope few see, That falls westwardly To the salt-edged air, Where the ocean breaks On the purple strand, And the hurricane shakes The solid land. ...
If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven, Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light, Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content: The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,...
If thou wouldst have me sing and play, As once I played and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung. Call back the time when pleasure's sigh...
Life would be an easy matter If we didn't have to eat. If we never had to utter, "Won't you pass the bread and butter, Likewise push along that platter Full of meat?" Yes, if food were obsolete...
Now what were the words of Jesus, And what would He pause and say, If we were to meet in home or street The Lord of the world to-day? Oh, I think He would pause and say, 'Go on with your chosen labour;...
If you had a friend strong, simple, true, Who knew your faults and who understood; Who believed in the very best of you, And who cared for you as a father would; Who would stick by you to the very end,...
If you had known When listening with her to the far-down moan Of the white-selvaged and empurpled sea, And rain came on that did not hinder talk, Or damp your flashing facile gaiety...
I had a guinea golden; I lost it in the sand, And though the sum was simple, And pounds were in the land, Still had it such a value Unto my frugal eye, That when I could not find it...
I had a little nut-tree, nothing would it bear But a silver nutmeg and a golden pear; The King of Spain's daughter came to visit me, And all for the sake of my little nut-tree.
I have a king who does not speak; So, wondering, thro' the hours meek I trudge the day away,-- Half glad when it is night and sleep, If, haply, thro' a dream to peep In parlors shut by day. ...
I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air - I have a rendezvous with Death...
I have lived with shades so long, And talked to them so oft, Since forth from cot and croft I went mankind among, That sometimes they In their dim style Will pause awhile...