UP those Museum steps you came, And straightway all my blood was f… O Lallie, Lallie! The world (I had been feeling low… In one short moment’s space did gr…

“O love, lean thou thy cheek to mi… And let the tears together flow”— Such was the song you sang to me Once, long ago. Such was the song you sang; and ye…

"Mein Herz, mein Herz ist trau… Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai" There’s May amid the meadows, There’s May amid the trees; Her May-time note the cuckoo

More blest than was of old Diogen… I have not held my lantern up in v… Not mine, at least, this evil—to c… “There is none honest among all of… Our hopes go down that sailed befo…

She, who so long has lain Stone-stiff with folded wings, Within my heart again The brown bird wakes and sings. Brown nightingale, whose strain

If I were a woman of old, What prayers I would pray for you… My pitiful tribute behold— Not a prayer, but a tear. The pitiless order of things,

They trod the streets and squares… With weary hearts, a little while… When, thin and grey, the melanchol… Clung to the leafless branches ove… Or when the smoke-veiled sky grew…

So Mary died last night! To-day The news has travelled here. And Robert died at Michaelmas, And Walter died last year. I went at sunset up the lane,

What ails my senses thus to cheat? What is it ails the place, That all the people in the street Should wear one woman’s face? The London trees are dusty-brown

I knew not if to laugh or weep; They sat and talked of you— “'Twas here he sat; ’twas this he… ’Twas that he used to do. ”Here is the book wherein he read,

Green is the plane-tree in the squ… The other trees are brown; They droop and pine for country ai… The plane-tree loves the town. Here from my garret-pane, I mark

Believe me, this was true last nig… Tho’ it is false to-day. —A.M.F. Robinson. A fair dream to my chamber flew: Such a crowd of folk that stirred,

At Loschwitz above the city The air is sunny and chill; The birch-trees and the pine-trees Grow thick upon the hill. Lone and tall, with silver stem,

Straw in the street where I pass… Dulls the sound of the wheels and… ’Tis for a failing life they lay Straw in the street. Here, where the pulses of London…

Two terrors fright my soul by nigh… The first is Life, and with her c… A weary, winding train of maidens… With forward-fronting eyes, too sa… Upon whose kindred faces, blank an…