Lovely Spring, A brief sweet thing, Is swift on the wing; Gracious Summer, A slow sweet comer, Hastens past; Autumn while sweet Is all incomplete With a moaning blast, -...
Is this the Face that thrills with awe Seraphs who veil their face above? Is this the Face without a flaw, The Face that is the Face of Love? Yea, this defaced, a lifeless clod,...
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet, If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun And crocus fires are kindling one by one: Sing, robin, sing;...