LOW, weed-climbed cliffs, o’er wh… The sea-mists swoon: Wind-twisted pines, through which… Goes winging slow: Dim fields, the sower never sows,

Sodden and shivering, in mud and r… Half in the light that serves but… The blackness of an alley and the… Homeward of wretchedness in tatter… A boy stands crouched; big drops o…

Universes are the pages Of that book whose words are ages; Of that book which destiny Opens in eternity. There each syllable expresses

Joy’s is the magic sweet, That makes Youth’s pulses beat, Puts music in young feet, The old heart hears, the sad heart… And Joy’s the pleasant pain,

Old days, old ways, old homes besi… Old gardens with old-fashioned flo… Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many a flower of fragrant pedig… Old hills that glow with blue- and…

Once when it had rained all night And all day, the next day, why, In our yard, a lot of white, Dumpy toadstools grew close by Our old peach tree: some were high…

There is nothing that eases my hea… As the wind that blows from the pu… ’Tis a hand of balsam whose healin… Unburdens my bosom of ills. There is nothing that causes my so…

We have sent him seeds of the melo… And nailed a warning upon his door… By the Ku Klux laws we can do no… Down in the hollow, 'mid crib and… The roof of his low-porched house…

Out of it all but this remains: I was with one who crossed wide ch… Of the Cordilleras, whose peaks Lock in the wilds of Yucatan, Chiapas and Honduras. Weeks

Sleep is a spirit, who beside us s… Or through our frames like some di… From out her form a pearly light i… As from a lily, in a lily-bed, A firefly’s gleam. Her face is pa…

Beautiful-bosomed, O Night, in th… Move with majesty onward! soaring,… As a singer may soar the notes of… The stars and the moon Through the clerestories high of t…

The wind that breathes of columbin… And celandines that crowd the rock… That shakes the balsam of the pine… With laughter from his airy locks, Stops at my city door and knocks.

Below, the tawny Tagus swept Past royal gardens, breathing balm… Upon his couch the monarch slept; The world was still; the night was… Gray, Gothic-gated, in the ray

Ye have ploughed the field like ca… Ye have sown the dragon-seed, Are ye ready now for battle? For fighters are what we need. Have ye done with taking and givin…

When April comes, and pelts with… And apple-blooms each orchard spac… And takes the dog-wood-whitened wo… With rain and sunshine of her mood… Like your fair face, like your fai…