Oh, Heart of a Hundred Sorrows, Whose pity is great therefore, The gift that thy children bring t… Is ever a sorrow more. Sure of thy dear compassion,

All that I know of love I see In eyes that never look at me; All that I know of love I guess But from another’s happiness. A beggar at the window I,

Orchards in the Spring-time! Oh,… Filmy mists of pink and white abov… Lifting and drifting,—how my eyes… I’m staring at a dirty wall beyond… Orchards in the Spring-time! Deep…

A hundred miles between us Could never part us more Than that one step you took from m… What time my need was sore. A hundred years between us

It was not then her heart broke’€” That moment when she knew That all her faith held holiest Was utterly untrue. It was not then her heart broke’€”

April will come to the quiet town That I left long ago, Scattering primroses up and down’€… Row upon happy row. (Oh, little green lane, will she c…

I said I will go back again where… Were glad together. But my dear,… Where are the roses we were wont t… The songs we used to hear? I said the hearth-flame that once…

She put her wedding-gown away As tenderly as one might close, With kissing lips and finger-tips, The petals of a rose Still held for the Belovèd’s sake…

I must be off where the green boug… Why should I linger to barter and… The mart may pay me’€”the mart may… I have had enough of the huckster’… The calm of the deep woods waits t…

White rose-leaves in my hands, I toss you all away; The winds shall blow you through t… To seek my wedding day. Or East you go, or West you go

Below them in the twilight the qui… And warm within its holding, the o… But here within the open fields th… And, hand in hand, across them the… Below them in the village are peac…

He made him a love o’ dreams— He raised for his heart’s delight— (As the heart of June a crescent… A frail, fair spirit of light. He gave her the gift of joy—

The three ghosts on the lonesome r…    Spake each to one another, “Whence came that stain about your…    No lifted hand may cover?” “From eating of forbidden fruit,

They whisper at my very gate, These clacking gossips every one, ‘We saw them in the wood of late, Her and the widow’s son; The horses at the forge may wait,