He stood alone on Fame's high mountain top, His hands at rest, his forehead bound with bay; And yet he watched with eyes unsatisfied The downward winding way.
Hail, little herald! - Art thou then returning From summer lands, this wild and wind-torn day? Hast brought the word for which our hearts are yearning, That spring is on the way?...
An angel found a daisy where it lay On Heaven's highroad of transparent gold, And, turning to one near, he said, "I pray, Tell me what manner of strange bloom I hold....
Silver clock! O silver clock! tell to me the time o' day! Is there yet a little hour left for us to work and play? Tell me when the sun will set - tiny globe of silver-grey. ...
Keen in his blood ran the old mad desire To right the world's wrongs and champion truth; Deep in his eyes shone a heaven-lit fire, And royal and radiant day-dreams of youth! ...
We used to fear the lonely road That twisted round the hill; It dipped down to the river-way, And passed the haunted mill, And then crept on, until it reached The churchyard, green and still. ...
Now cometh October - a nut-brown maid, Who in robes of crimson and gold arrayed Hath taken the king's highway! On the world she smiles - but to me it seems Her eyes are misty with mid-summer dreams,...
Little brown brother, up in the apple tree, High on its blossom-rimmed branches aswing, Here where I listen earth-bound, it seems to me You are the voice of the spring. ...
Though I follow a trail to north or south, Though I travel east or west, There's a little house on a quiet road That my hidden heart loves best; And when my journeys are over and done,...
Oh, fairy palace of pink and pearl Frescoed with filigree silver-white, Down in the silence beneath the sea God by Himself must have fashioned thee Just for His own delight! ...