YOU remember, I suppose, How the August sun arose, And how his face Woke to trill and carolette All the cages that were set

I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy i… Now I know the false and true, For the earnest sun looks through,

Some day soon this rhyming volume,… Little Louis Sanchez, will be giv… Then you shall discover, that your… By the English printers, long bef… In the great and busy city where t…

COME, here is adieu to the city And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me Watered with last night’s rain. The timbered country woos me

I knew a silver head was bright be… I knew a queen of toil with a crow… Garland of valour and sorrow, of b… Life, that honours the brave, crow… The beauties of youth are frail, b…

Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I’ve been good… I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and ne…

Three of us afloat in the meadow b… Three of us abroad in the basket o… Winds are in the air, they are blo… And waves are on the meadow like t… Where shall we adventure, to—day t…

At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing… And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl

SWALLOWS travel to and fro, And the great winds come and go, And the steady breezes blow, Bearing perfume, bearing love. Breezes hasten, swallows fly,

NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie

The human conscience has fled of l… domain of conduct for what I shoul… less congenial field of art: there… rage, and with special severity in… so that in every novel the letters…

I know not how it is with you — I love the first and last, The whole field of the present vie… The whole flow of the past. One tittle of the things that are,

THE wind blew shrill and smart, And the wind awoke my heart Again to go a—sailing o’er the sea… To hear the cordage moan And the straining timbers groan,

WOULDST thou be free? I think… But if thou wouldst, attend this s… When quite contented }thou canst d… Thou shall be free when } And drink a small wine of the marc…

We see you as we see a face That trembles in a forest place Upon the mirror of a pool Forever quiet, clear and cool; And in the wayward glass, appears