At night, with shaded eyes, the summer moon In tender meditation downward glances At the dark earth, far-set in dim expanses, And, welcomer than blazoned gold of noon,...
'At last he is dead' So the wondering, horror-struck neighbours said, A skilful touch of his knife Has cut the thread of a wasted life He has reached the end of the downward road,...
We'll go no more a-roving by the light of the moon. November glooms are barren beside the dusk of June. The summer flowers are faded, the summer thoughts are sere....
Were all the world like you, my dear, Were all the world like you, Oh, there'd be darts in all our hearts From sunset to the dew. For life would be Love's jubilee Where all were two and two,...
Crouch'd on the pavement close by Belgrave Square A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied; A babe was in her arms, and at her side A girl; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare....
We two, how long we were fool'd! Now transmuted, we swiftly escape, as Nature escapes; We are Nature, long have we been absent, but now we return; We become plants, leaves, foliage, roots, bark;...
"Here, Charlotte," said Mamma one day. "These stockings knit while I'm away, And should you fail, be sure you'll find Mamma is strict, although she's kind."
What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine Through my very heart they shine; And, if my brow gives back their light, Do thou look gladly on the sight; As the clear Moon with modest pride...
And what is Life?--An hour-glass on the run, A mist retreating from the morning sun, A busy, bustling, still repeated dream; Its length?--A minute's pause, a moment's thought;...
And what is Life? An hour-glass on the run, A mist retreating from the morning sun, A busy, bustling, still repeated dream; Its length?--A minute's pause, a moment's thought;...
Resembles Life what once was held of Light, Too ample in itself for human sight? An absolute Self, an element ungrounded All, that we see, all colours of all shade By encroach of darkness made?...
What is right living? Just to do your best When worst seems easier. To bear the ills Of daily life with patient cheerfulness Nor waste dear time recounting them. To talk...
The words we speak on the empty air, Are never lost, but recorded there; The process we may not comprehend, Nor how the words with the air may blend, But science shows what results may be;...