‘Yes, well your story pleads the c… Of those dumb mouths that have no… Only a cry from each to each In its own kind, with its own laws… Something that is beyond the reach

Thus then, much care-worn, The son of Healfden Sorrowed evermore, Nor might the prudent hero His woes avert.

Loudly the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, As with his fleet he steered Southward to Vendland; Where with their courses hauled

Thus then, much care—worn, The son of Healfden Sorrowed evermore, Nor might the prudent hero His woes avert.

I heard a voice, that cried, ‘Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!’ And through the misty air Passed like the mournful cry

Simon Danz has come home again, From cruising about with his bucca… He has singed the beard of the Ki… And carried away the Dean of Jaen And sold him in Algiers.

In the market-place of Bruges sta… Thrice consumed and thrice rebuild… town. As the summer morn was breaking, o… And the world threw off the darkne…

In the long, sleepless watches of… A gentle face —the face of one lon… Looks at me from the wall, where r… The night—lamp casts a halo of pal… Here in this room she died; and so…

Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud—folds of her garm… Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest—fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow

No hay pajaros en los nidos de ant… Spanish Proverb The sun is bright,—the air is clea… The darting swallows soar and sing… And from the stately elms I hear

PLEASANTLY rose next morn the… Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sw… Where the ships, with their waveri… Life had long been astir in the vi… Knocked with its hundred hands at…

Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and gast blew the blast, And the east—wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice

Will ever the dear days come back… Those days of June, when lilacs w… And bluebirds sang their sonnets i… Of leaves that roofed them in from… I know not; but a presence will re…

Four by the clock! and yet not day… But the great world rolls and whee… With its cities on land, and its s… Into the dawn that is to be! Only the lamp in the anchored bark

Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits; He hears the crowd;—he hears a bre… Say, “It is Christ of Nazareth!” And calls, in tones of agony,