Chide not; let me breathe a little… For I shall not mourn him long; Though the life—cord was so brittl… The love—cord was very strong. I would wake a little space
I caught a little ladybird That flies far away; I caught a little lady wife That is both staid and gay. Come back, my scarlet ladybird,
Out of the church she followed the… With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother sa…
What do the stars do Up in the sky, Higher than the wind can blow, Or the clouds can fly? Each star in its own glory
She stands as pale as Parian stat… Like Cleopatra when she turned at… And felt her strength above the R… And felt the aspic writhing in her… Her face is steadfast toward the s…
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…
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…
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land… When you can no more hold me by th… Nor I half turn to go yet turning… Remember me when no more day by da…
I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,
If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…
Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…
Wee wee husband, Give me some money, I have no comfits, And I have no honey. Wee wee wifie,
The horses of the sea Rear a foaming crest, But the horses of the land Serve us the best. The horses of the land
Sing me a song — What shall I sing?— Three merry sisters Dancing in a ring, Light and fleet upon their feet
Am I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, O Christ, bene… To number drop by drop Thy Blood’… And yet not weep? Not so those women loved