Along the road I smelt the rose, The wild-rose in its veil of rain; And how it was, God only knows, But with its scent I saw again A girl’s face at a window-pane,

Into the sunset’s turquoise marge The moon dips, like a pearly barge Enchantment sails through magic se… To faeryland Hesperides, Over the hills and away.

He found the road so long and lone That he was fain to turn again. The bird’s faint note, the bee’s l… Seemed to his heart to monotone The unavailing and the vain,

Whenever on the windowpane I hear the fingers of the rain, And in the old trees, near the doo… The wind that whispers more and mo… Bright in the light made by the la…

To Friendship drink, and then to… And last to Loyalty! The first of these were not enough Without the last, through whom we… That Love is Love, and right enou…

Here is a tale for any one who wis… There grew a cabbage once among th… A plain, broad cabbage a good wenc… Were kitchen-busy with plebeian di… The rose and lily, toilless, witho…

They who take courage from their o… Are victors too, no matter how muc…

Across the world she sends me word… From gardens fair as Falerina’s, Now by a blossom, now a bird, To come to her, who long has lured With magic sweeter than Alcina’s.

How shall it be with them that day When God demands of Earth His pa… With them who make a god of clay And gold and put all truth away. Shall not they see the lightning-r…

A Tortured tree in a huddled holl… On whose gnarled boughs three leav… A strip of path that the hunters f… That leads to fields of the wind’s… And a rain-washed hill with the wi…

It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stre… And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes

When in the pansy-purpled stain Of sunset one far star is seen, Like some bright dropp of rain, Out of the forest, deep and green, O’er me at Spirit seems to lean,

WITH her fair face she made my h… Beneath whose stars and moon and s… I worshiped, praying, having striv… For wealth through which she might… And yet she had no soul: A woman

The hillside smokes With trailing mist around the rosy… While sunset builds A gorgeous Asia in the west she g… Auroral streaks

There’s a scent of pungent wood sm… And a jack-o’-lantern glare, a wil… ’Tis the brush that burns and smou… The old New England ways, When Autumn plants her gipsy tent…