The sun is weary, for he ran So far and fast to-day; The birds are weary, for who sang So many songs as they? The bees and butterflies at last Are tired out, for just think too...
Full in the splendour of this morning hour, With tramp of men and roll of muffled drums, In what a pomp and pageantry of power, Borne to his grave, our lord, King EDWARD, comes! ...
Had I the gold that some so vainly spend, For my lost loves a temple would I raise, A shrine for each dear name: there should ascend Incense for ever, and hymns of golden praise;...
Little chipmunk, do you know All you mean to me? - She and I and Long Ago, And you there in the tree; With that nut between your paws, Half-way to your twittering jaws,...
This is the year that has no Christmas Day, Even the little children must be told That something sad is happening far away - Or, if you needs must play, As children must,...
Dear wife, there is no word in all my songs But unto thee belongs: Though I indeed before our true day came Mistook thy star in many a wandering flame,...
Yea, it is best, dear friends, who have so oft Fed full my ears with praises sweet and soft, Sweeter and softer than my song should win, Too sweet and soft - I must not listen more,...
I bring a message from the stream To fan the burning cheeks of town, From morning's tower Of pearl and rose I bring this cup of crystal down, With brimming dews agleam,...
There's nothing I know of to make you spend A day of your life at Cragwell End. It's a village quiet and grey and old, A little village tucked into a fold (A sort of valley, not over wide)...
So now your tale of years is done, Old Fluff, my friend, and you have won, Beyond our land of mist and rain, Your way to the Elysian plain, Where through the shining hours of heat...
Kisses are long forgotten of this twain, Kisses and words - the sweet small prophecies That run before the Lord of Love: the fain Touch of the hand, and feasting of the eyes,...
A little book, this grim November day, Wherein, O tired heart, to creep away, - Come drink this wine and wear this fadeless rose, Nor heed the world, nor what the world shall say. ...
Dear Heart, what thing may symbolise for us A love like ours, what gift, whate'er it be, Hold more significance 'twixt thee and me Than paltry words a truth miraculous; Or the poor signs that in astronomy...