Oh! the long green lanes of Engla… They be very far away, And it’s there that I’d be walkin… ‘Mid the hawthorn and the may. Where the trees are all in blossom…

Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,

Oh! City girls are pale-like, And proud-like, and cold-like. And nineteen out of twenty Have never been our way. I tells them of the tall hills.

Hot with the ardour of the sun, Whose burning lips had slain the n… The golden pallor of the moon Was but an added fire, o’ercome With memories she swooned away,

To-day I hate that bitter creed, Whereby the groaning soul is taugh… That God Almighty finds the need Of pain, ere true salvation 's wro… Dear God, who did create the tree…

‘ Oh! bother,’ sang the thrush, ‘I’m in an awful rush, For I’ve got to get ready for the… With feathers from my breast, I’ll line a cosy nest,

I made a little funeral pyre, And on it laid my youthful rhymes, Those thoughts of innocent desire, Dear foolish words of childhood ti… Poor things they were, misspelt an…

O Raggedstone, you darksome hiU, Your shadow fell for sure Upon my own dear love and I, Across the purple moor. For we were such a happy pair,

At close of June’s most burning d… We took a ship and sailed away: In mid-Potomac stream sailed we. To Old Point Comfort by the sea. The heavy hanging air of dusk

If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…

Malvern The world 's a beautiful world to-… A flame of gold and a dusk of gray… Where Autumn leaves toss their ga… O’er still deep lanes, where the t…

Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.

O Casend Hill, I be so heavy-hea… So lonesome-hke since from my love… That when the bracken on your side… And all the mating thrushes start… A kind of fear across my mind come…

The hillside green with bracken. And the red plough land, The brownish hurrying rivers, Where the willows stand. The thickets and the meadows.

The day our dead are laid to rest We heap the earth upon their breas… Upon the earth we set a stone. And then we leave them all alone. Some folks they weep, and some the…