What hast thou not withstood, Tempest-despising tree, Whose bloat and riven wood Gapes now so hollowly, What rains have beaten thee through many years,...
August is gone and now this is September, Softer the sun in a cloudier sky; Yellow the leaves grow and apples grow golden, Blackberries ripen and hedges undress. Watch and you'll see the departure of summer,...
The world's great ways unclose Through little wooded hills: An air that stirs and stills, Dies sighing where it rose Or flies to sigh again In elms, whose stately rows Receive the summer rain,...
Who thinks that he possesses His mistress with his kisses Knows neither love nor her. Nor beauty is not his Who seeks it in a kiss: If you would seek for this O seek it otherwhere! ...