‘These winter days,’ my father say… ‘When mornings blow and bite and f… And hens sit cackling in the straw… Stiff with the frost as gates that… Remind me of my youth when, raw,

The Fool Here is a tale for children and th… There was a fool, a man who’d had… But missed them, somehow; lost the… Tag-ends of things with which he’d…

A beardless crew we launched our l… Laughed at its lightness; joyed to… Veer in the wind, and, with the fr… Bend o’er the foaming prow the swo… No fears were ours within that sta…

‘We have the receipt of fern seed:… —HENRY IV And we have met but twice or thric… Three times enough to make me love… I praised your hair once; then you…

Each form of beauty’s but the new… Of thoughts more beautiful than fo… Sceptics, who search with unanoint… Never the Earth’s wild fairy-danc…

I Have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth than rose or violet That Mayday winds and sunbeams br… Of all we know, past or to come,

NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,

A SHADOW glided down the way Where sunset groped among the tree… And all the woodland bower, asway With trouble of the evening breeze… A shape, it moved with head held d…

Between the rose’s and the canna’s… Beneath her window in the night I… The jeweled dew hangs little stars… The white moonflowers each a spiri… That points the path to mystic sha…

One tree, storm-twisted, like an e… The sea-wind in its hair, beside a… Waves frantic arms, as if in wild-… At all the world. Gigantic, grey… Great boulders shoulder through th…

There’s something now that no one… That never seems to mind me Where is it that my shadow goes That often walks behind me? Where does it go when I come home…

The rain made ruin of the rose and… The lily into tatters: now the Mo… Looks from the hopeless East with… As from her attic looks a dull-eye… The coreopsis drips; the sunflower…

Why do I love you, who have never… My heart encouragement or any caus… Is it because, as earth is held of… Your soul holds mine by some myste… Perhaps, unseen of me, within your…

What ogive gates from gold of Oph… What walls of Pariah, whiter than… What towers of crystal, for the ey… Hast builded on far Islands of Re… Thy cloudy columns, vast, Corinth…

Love hath no place in her, Though in her bosom be Love-thoughts and dreams that stir Longings that know not me: Love hath no place in her,