A plain tilt-bonnet on her head She took the path across the leaze. - Her spouse the vicar, gardening, said, "Too dowdy that, for coquetries, So I can hoe at ease. ...
I told her when I left one day That whatsoever weight of care Might strain our love, Time's mere assault Would work no changes there. And in the night she came to me, Toothless, and wan, and old,...
I traced the Circus whose gray stones incline Where Rome and dim Etruria interjoin, Till came a child who showed an ancient coin That bore the image of a Constantine. ...
"Man, you too, aren't you, one of these rough followers of the criminal? All hanging hereabout to gather how he's going to bear Examination in the hall." She flung disdainful glances on...
I lay in my bed and fiddled With a dreamland viol and bow, And the tunes flew back to my fingers I had melodied years ago. It was two or three in the morning When I fancy-fiddled so...
In the vaulted way, where the passage turned To the shadowy corner that none could see, You paused for our parting, - plaintively; Though overnight had come words that burned...
"Would that I'd not drawn breath here!" some one said, "To stalk upon this stage of evil deeds, Where purposelessly month by month proceeds A play so sorely shaped and blood-bespread." ...
I rose and went to Rou'tor Town With gaiety and good heart, And ardour for the start, That morning ere the moon was down That lit me off to Rou'tor Town...
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One Who spread a heaven beneath the sun," I said to Love. ...
I sometimes think as here I sit Of things I have done, Which seemed in doing not unfit To face the sun: Yet never a soul has paused a whit On such not one. ...
I thought, my Heart, that you had healed Of those sore smartings of the past, And that the summers had oversealed All mark of them at last. But closely scanning in the night...
I was the midmost of my world When first I frisked me free, For though within its circuit gleamed But a small company, And I was immature, they seemed To bend their looks on me. ...
I worked no wile to meet you, My sight was set elsewhere, I sheered about to shun you, And lent your life no care. I was unprimed to greet you At such a date and place, Constraint alone had won you...