What of the darkness? Is it very… Are there great calms and find ye… Like soft-shut lilies all your fac… With some strange peace our faces… With some great faith our faces ne…

Strange little spring, by channels… Gentle, resistless, welling, welli… Through what blind ways, we know n… You darkling come to dance and dim… Strange little spring!

O spirit of Life, by whatsoe’er a… Known among men, even as our fathe… Before thee, and as little childre… For counsel in Life’s dread predi… Even we, with all our lore,

Dear Love, you ask if I be true, If other women move The heart that only beats for you With pulses all of love. Out in the chilly dew one morn

‘This hot, hard flame with which o… Will make some meadow blaze with d… Ay! and those argent breasts of th… To water-lilies; the brown fields… Will be more fruitful for our love…

Doth it not thrill thee, Poet, Dead and dust though thou art, To feel how I press thy singing Close to my heart?- Take it at night to my pillow,

War I abhor, And yet how sweet The sound along the marching stree… Of drum and fife, and I forget

The beauty of this rainy day, All silver-green and dripping gray… Has stolen quite my heart away From all the tasks I meant to do, Made me forget the resolute blue

(Obiit Nov. 18, 1909) America grows poorer day by day– Richer and richer, I have heard s… They thought of a poor wealth I d… For, one by one, the men who dream…

I said-I care not if I can But look into her eyes again, But lay my hand within her hand Just once again. Though all the world be filled wit…

When the spring comes again, will… Three springs I watched and waite… And listened for your voice upon t… I sought for you in many a hidden… Saying, ‘She must be there.’

She’s somewhere in the sunlight st…    Her tears are in the falling ra… She calls me in the wind’s soft so…    And with the flowers she comes… Yon bird is but her messenger,

Morn hath a secret that she never… ’Tis on her lips and in her maiden… I think it is the way to Paradise… Or of the Fount of Youth the crys… The bee hath no such honey in her…

We thought that winter, love, woul… That the dark year had slain the i… Nor hoped that your soft hand, thi… Would lie, as now, in mine, belove… And, like some magic spring, your…

Kisses are long forgotten of this… Kisses and words-the sweet small p… That run before the Lord of Love:… Touch of the hand, and feasting of… All tendrilled sweets that blossom…