When eight strong fellows are out to row, With a slip of a lad to guide them, I warrant they'll make the light ship go, Though the coach on the launch may chide them,...
In vain with whip and knotted cord The hirelings of hypocrisy Would make us comely for the Lord: Think ye God works through such as ye - Paid Puritan, plump Pharisee,...
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,...
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,...
Poet of doom, dementia, and death, Of beauty singing in a charnel house, Like the lost soul of a poor moon-mad maid, With too much loving of some lord of hell;...
Must I believe this beauty wholly gone That in her picture here so deathless seems, And must I henceforth speak of her as one Tells of some face of legend or of dreams,...
I know not in what place again I'll meet The face I love - but there is not a street In the wide world where you can wander, sweet, Without my finding you, with those great eyes;...
Hail and Farewell, dear Brother of the Pen, Maker of sunshine for the minds of men, Lord of bright cheer and master of our hearts - What plaint is fit when such a friend departs?...
Poet, a truce to your song! Have you heard the heart sing? Like a brook among trees, Like the humming of bees, Like the ripple of wine: Had you heard, would you stay Blowing bubbles so long?...
I am too proud of loving thee, too proud Of the sweet months and years that now have end, To feign a heart indifferent to this loss, Too thankful-happy that the gods allowed Our orbits cross,...
One says he is immoral, and points out Warm sin in ruddy specks upon his soul: Bigot, one folly of the man you flout Is more to God than thy lean life is whole.
Blow, Father Triton, blow your wreath'd horn Cheerly, as is your wont, and let the blast Circle our island on the breezes borne; Blow, while the shining hours go swiftly past....
Tufted and bunched and ranged with careless art Here, where the paving-stones are set apart, Alert and gay and innocent of guile, The little pansies nod their heads and smile. ...
Paris, half Angel, half Grisette, I would that I were with thee yet, Where the long boulevard at even Stretches its starry lamps to heaven, And whispers from a thousand trees...
Paths that wind O'er the hills and by the streams I must leave behind - Dawns and dews and dreams. Trails that go Through the woods and down the slopes To the vale below;...
Our Peter, who's famed as an eater of things, Is a miniature dragon without any wings. He can gallop or trot, he can amble or jog, But he flies like a flash when he's after his prog;...
Primrose and Violet - May they help thee to forget All that love should not remember, Sweet as meadows after rain When the sun has come again, As woods awakened from December....