Along the tops of all the yellow trees, The golden-yellow trees, the sunshine lies; And where the leaves are gone, long rays surprise Lone depths of thicket with their brightnesses;...
Autumn clouds are flying, flying O'er the waste of blue; Summer flowers are dying, dying, Late so lovely new. Labouring wains are slowly rolling Home with winter grain;...
I see thy house, but I am blown about, A wind-mocked kite, between the earth and sky, All out of doors--alas! of thy doors out, And drenched in dews no summer suns can dry. ...
The stars are all watching; God's angel is catching At thy skirts in the darkness deep! Gold hinges grating, The mighty dead waiting, Why dost thou sleep?
Come through the gloom of clouded skies, The slow dim rain and fog athwart; Through east winds keen with wrong and lies Come and lift up my hopeless heart.
Sighing above, Rustling below, Thorough the woods The winds go. Beneath, dead crowds; Above, life bare; And the besom tempest Sweeps the air: Heart, leave thy woe:...
'Tis the midnight hour; I heard The Abbey-bell give out the word. Seldom is the lamp-ray shed On some dwarfed foot-farer's head In the deep and narrow street Lying ditch-like at my feet...
The miser lay on his lonely bed; Life's candle was burning dim. His heart in an iron chest was hid Under heaps of gold and an iron lid; And whether it were alive or dead It never troubled him. ...
Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win' blew laich and eerie. In's pooch he had a plack or twa-- I vow he hadna mony,...
If I were a monk, and thou wert a nun, Pacing it wearily, wearily, Twixt chapel and cell till day were done-- Wearily, wearily-- How would it fare with these hearts of ours...
There may be seeming calm above, but no!-- There is a pulse below which ceases not, A subterranean working, fiery hot, Deep in the million-hearted bosom, though Earthquakes unlock not the prodigious show...