I know a baby, such a baby, — Round blue eyes and cheeks of pink… Such an elbow furrowed with dimple… Such a wrist where creases sink. ‘Cuddle and love me, cuddle and lo…
Underneath the growing grass, Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers: There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass.
It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.
Golden—winged, silver—winged, Winged with flashing flame, Such a flight of birds I saw, Birds without a name: Singing songs in their own tongue
Hear what the mournful linnets say… ‘We built our nest compact and war… But cruel boys came round our way And took our summerhouse by storm. ‘They crushed the eggs so neatly l…
None other Lamb, none other Name, None other hope in Heav’n or eart… None other hiding place from guilt… None beside Thee! My faith burns low, my hope burns…
A rose has thorns as well as honey… I’ll not have her for love or mone… An iris grows so straight and fine… That she shall be no friend of min… Snowdrops like the snow would chil…
A blue—eyed phantom far before Is laughing, leaping toward the su… Like lead I chase it evermore, I pant and run. It breaks the sunlight bound on bo…
I would have gone; God bade me st… I would have worked; God bade me… He broke my will from day to day, He read my yearnings unexpressed And said them nay.
Oh, fair to see Blossom—laden cherry tree, Arrayed in sunny white; An April day’s delight, Oh, fair to see!
When I was dead, my spirit turned To seek the much—frequented house: I passed the door, and saw my frie… Feasting beneath green orange boug… From hand to hand they pushed the…
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
‘Now did you mark a falcon, Sister dear, sister dear, Flying toward my window In the morning cool and clear? With jingling bells about her neck…
If hope grew on a bush, And joy grew on a tree, What a nosegay for the plucking There would be! But oh! in windy autumn,
How many seconds in a minute? Sixty, and no more in it. How many minutes in an hour? Sixty for sun and shower. How many hours in a day?