There are two happy birds in the t… There are two happy stars in the s… There are two happy waves in the s… There are two happy clouds driftin… There are two happy mortals, since…

If I should pray, my prayer would… For gratitude unlimited: For gratitude so vast and deep, That it would move my soul to weep Great tears, and all the words I…

The wind has shaken the lilac tree… And scattered their purple bloom, The wind has harassed the honey be… And robbed the flowers of their me… The wind has gathered a host of cl…

This valley now in sun, and now in… Is like the musings of your tender… That pauses, bathed in joy, yet ha… To look before, and then to gaze b… Along the fragrant meadows slowly…

Oh! the wind among the trees, How it stirs their wood to song! Little whispered melodies. All the winding road along. Was there ever such a sound,

The sun has set; Beloved see that… Wan with desire, pale in the after… Above the hill top hanging very lo… As though she stooped from her hig… To kiss this earth, because she lo…

From Wind’s Point hill at eventid… I see the train go by ; The train that goes to Ledbury, Along the vale of Wye. It wanders through the clustered h…

Baby, with those solemn eyes And that yellow hair You are very, very wise, Baby dear, I’ll swear! Give me, sweet, your chubby hand,

June 29th Beneath the lime trees in the gard… High above the town, The scent of whose suspended bloom Entranced the air with warm perfum…

Oh! why is the world as it is, we… With tears in our voice, and a sig… For nothing remains but an unfinis… While beauty is only hypocrisy’s m… The end of it all—but to die.

Through the rustling river grasses Warm and sweet the young wind pass… Blowing shyly soft caresses To their dewy emerald tresses. All along the silver sands

Upon my life I bear one precious… Each night I kiss it, till anew i… And tell each drop of blood, as ha… Are told by those dear few who fai… To me it seems to beautify, not ma…

Bredon is a lonesome hill, It hasn’t any brothers ; It stands within the Severn vale, Apart from all the others. The Cotswold Hills go hand in han…

The noontide showers have drifted… The sunset’s on the hill, The lights be gleaming through the… Adown by Clincher’s Mill. It’s such a pretty evening, maid.

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