Those forms we fancy shadows, thos… That flash on lone morasses, the q… That smites us by the roadside are… Innumerable children. Unconfined By shroud or coffin, disembodied s…

A.D. 1670 AGLÄE, a widow. MURIEL, her unmarried sister. It happened once, in that brave la… For half the twelvemonth wrapt in…

[Author’s Note: The title means “… From yonder gilded minaret Beside the steel-blue Neva set, I faintly catch, from time to time… The sweet, aerial midnight chime—

I vex me not with brooding on the… That were ere I drew breath; why… Distrust the darkness that may fal… When life is done? Perchance in o… Dead planets—I once tasted mortal…

GLOUCESTER, AUGUST, 1720 The wind it wailed, the wind it mo… And the white caps flecked the sea… “An’ I would to God,” the skipper… “I had not my boy with me!

Shakespeare and Milton—what third… Shall lips of after-ages link to t… His who, beside the wide encirclin… Was England’s voice, her voice wi… For threescore years; whose word o…

While men pay reverence to mighty… They must revere thee, thou blue-c… Of England-not to-day, but this l… In front of nations, Mother of gr… Soldiers, and poets. Round thee t…

The new moon hung in the sky, the… And my betrothed and I in the chu… Happy maiden and lover, dreaming t… The light winds wandered by, and r… And lo! in the meadow sweet was th…

I know not in what fashion she was… Nor what her voice was, when she u… Nor if the silken lashes threw a s… On wan or rosy cheek. I picture her with sorrowful vague…

Take these rhymes into thy grace, Since they are of thy begetting, Lady, that dost make each place Where thou art a jewel’s setting. Some such glamour lend this Book;

EDWARD ROWLAND SILL,… I held his letter in my hand, And even while I read The lightning flashed across the l… The word that he was dead.

Forever am I conscious, moving he… That should I step a little space… I pass the boundary of some glorif… Invisible domain—it lies so near! Yet nothing know we of that dim fr…

Curled up and sitting on her feet. Within the window’s deep embrasure… Is Lydia; and across the street, A lad, with eyes of roguish azure, Watches her buried in her book.

The increasing moonlight drifts ac… And on the churchyard by the road,… It falls as white and noiselessly… ’Twas such a night two weary summe… The stars, as now, were waning ove…

It was with doubt and trembling I whispered in her ear. Go, take her answer, bird-on-bough… That all the world may hear— _Sweetheart, sigh no more_!