There in the calamus he stands With frog-webbed feet and bat-winged hands; His glow-worm garb glints goblin-wise; And elfishly, and elfishly, Above the gleam of owlet eyes,...
Beyond the barley meads and hay, What was the light that beckoned there? That made her sweet lips smile and say 'Oh, busk me in a gown of May, And knot red poppies in my hair.' ...
To Coroner Merival, greetings, but a voice Dissentient from much that goes the rounds, Concerning Elenor Murray. Here's my word: Give men and women freedom, save the land...
Winds of May, that dance on the sea, Dancing a ring-around in glee From furrow to furrow, while overhead The foam flies up to be garlanded, In silvery arches spanning the air,...
With heavy groans did I approach my friends, Heavy as though the mountains I would move. The flagon they were murdering; they poured Into the cup, wild-eyed, the grape's red blood....
Unless our Souls win back to Thee, We shall have lost this fight. Yes, though we win on field and sea, Though mightier still our might may be, We still shall lose if we win not Thee....
Glad winters on the olden farm! How raptures from those early times Commingle into fairy chimes Which gently banish cries of harm! My fainting soul finds rest the whiles Within the arms of memory,...
Thyrsis, the music of that murm'ring spring, Is not so mournful as the strains you sing. Nor rivers winding thro' the vales below, So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow....
My son, if you go to the races to battle with Ikey and Mo, Remember, it's seldom the pigeon can pick out the eye of the crow; Remember, they live by the business; remember, my son, and go slow. ...
I saw Lord Buddha towering by my gate Saying: "Once more, good youth, I stand and wait." Saying: "I bring you my fair Law of Peace And from your withering passion full release;...
Go, little book, To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl, Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl: And bid him look Into thy pages: it may hap that he May find that golden maidens dance through thee.
As one of some fat tillage dispossessed, Weighing the yield of these four faded years, If any ask what fruit seems loveliest, What lasting gold among the garnered ears, -...
About the ending of the Ramad'n, When leanest grows the famished Mussulman, A haggard ne'er-do-well, Mahmoud by name, At the tenth hour to Caliph OMAR came. "Lord of the Faithful (quoth he), at the last...
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky, "How silently, and with how wan a face!" Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race!...
Dear Heart, this is my book of boyish song, The changing story of the wandering quest That found at last its ending in thy breast - The love it sought and sang astray so long...
It fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so: That, howsoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.