There-peace once more; the restles… Of troubled cities dies away. ‘Welcome to our broad shade once m… The dear old woodlands seem to say… The sweet suggestions of the wind,

Why should we lodge in marble or i… Spirits more vast than earth, or s… Wiser the silent worshipper that c… Their words for wisdom that will n… Unto the favourite of the passing…

Give me October’s meditative haze… Its gossamer mornings, dewy-wimple… Dewy and fragrant, fragrant and se… The long slow sound of farmward-we… When homely Love sups quiet ‘mid…

Look up, desponding hearts! See,… From out her tents behind the scre… And speeds her glittering lances o… Where hostile mists, unconscious,… Roused from their vain security, t…

One day as on an ass I rode, By many a twisting gully, To where once stood the famed abod… Of philosophic Tully, A shepherd lad with hat aslouch

Though we must die, I would not d… When fields are brown and bleak, When wild-geese stream across the… And the cart-lodge timbers creak. For it would be so lone and drear

Here let us sit beneath this oak,… The acorns fitfully fall one by on… The final harvest of the fading ye… Now Summer eves and Autumn days a… The orchard rows stand desolate an…

Here’s to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it,

By the fates that have fastened ou… By the distance that holds us apar… By our passion, its sweetness, its… By the longing and ache of the hea… By our meeting, our parting, our p…

Tell me your race, your name, O Lady limned as dead, yet as whe… That within this faded frame An unfading beauty wear. Were you ever known to fame,

Nay, do not quarrel with the seaso… Nor make an enemy of friendly Tim… The fruit and foliage of the faili… Rival the buds and blossoms of its… Is not the harvest moon as round a…

Where Apennine slopes unto Tuscan… And breaks into dimples, and laugh… To see where the terrors of Winte… And out of a valley of grape and g… There blossoms a City of domes an…

Now upon English soil I soon shal… Homeward from climes that fancy de… And well I know that there will g… No soft foam fawning upon smiling… No scent of orange-groves, no zeph…

When for one brief dark hour Rome… Felt the sharp shock of Cannae’s… Forum, and field, and Senate-Hous… With cries of nor misgiving nor la… Only of men contending now who sho…

Love, wilt thou love me still when… Steals on the tresses of autumnal… When the pale rose hath perished i… And those are wrinkles that are di… Wilt thou, when this fond arm that…