In this old garden, fair, I walk to-day Heart-charmed with all the beauty of the scene: The rich, luxuriant grasses' cooling green, The wall's environ, ivy-decked and gray,...
I would have loved: there are no mates in heaven; I would be great: there is no pride in heaven; I would have sung, as doth the nightingale The summer's night beneath the moone pale,...
Before the statue of a giant Hun, There stood a dwarf, misshapen and uncouth. His lifted eyes seemed asking: 'Why, in sooth, Was I not fashioned like this mighty one? Would God show favour to an older son...
But now the Summer hastens to its close, And soon will Song a different aspect wear, Sweeping terrific, clad in ghostly snows, And lit by the flash of the Boreal glare, Or, but a poet in his easy chair;...
We two stood simply friend-like side by side, Viewing a twilight country far and wide, Till she at length broke silence. 'How it towers Yonder, the ruin o'er this vale of ours!...
I remember, when a child, How within the April wild Once I walked with Mystery In the groves of Arcady.... Through the boughs, before, behind, Swept the mantle of the wind,...
The darkened street was muffled with the snow, The falling flakes had made your shoulders white, And when we found a shelter from the night Its glamor fell upon us like a blow....
Through the low grey archway children's feet that pass Quicken, glad to find the sweetest haunt of all. Brightest wildflowers gleaming deep in lustiest grass,...
Bright summer comes, all bloom and flowers, To garland o'er her faded bowers; There's balm and sunshine on her wing, But where's the friend she used to bring? One heart is sad 'mid all the glee,...
Here the white-ray'd anemone is born, Wood-sorrel, and the varnish'd buttercup; And primrose in its purfled green swathed up, Pallid and sweet round every budding thorn,...
After a year I came again to the place; The tireless lights and the reverberation, The angry thunder of trains that burrow the ground, The hunted, hurrying people were still the same...
One of the twain was long and dusty grey, And like a spark that in the ashes lies, Satiric laughter glinted in his eyes And made his nose auroral with its ray: The other like a huge black bird of prey,...