The poet's song, and the bird's, And the waters' that chant as they run And the waves' that kiss the beach, And the wind's--they are but one. He who may read their words, And the secret hid in each,...
Night! the horrible wizard Night! The dumb and terrible Night Hath drawn his circle of magic, round Over the sky, and over the ground, Without a sound. Ah me, what woeful phantoms rise,...
When the earliest south winds softly blow Over the brown earth, and the waning snow In the last days of the discrowned March,-- Before the silver tassels of the larch, Or any tiniest bud or blade is seen;...
The wind croons under the icicled eaves-- Croons and mutters a wordless song, And the old elm chafes its skeleton leaves Against the windows all night long.
Break dull November skies, and make Sunshine over wood and lake, And fill your cells of frosty air With thousand, thousand welcomes to the Princely pair!...