#English
Winter is white on turf and tree, And birds are fled; But summer songsters pipe to me, And petals spread, For what I dreamt of secretly
I wandered to a crude coast Like a ghost; Upon the hills I saw fires - Funeral pyres Seemingly - and heard breaking
When of tender mind and body I was moved by minstrelsy, And that strain “The Bridge of L… Brought a strange delight to me. In the battle-breathing jingle
By Rome’s dim relics there walks… Eyes bent; and he carries a basket… I guess what impels him to scrape… Yea, his dreams of that Empire lo… ‘Vast was Rome,’ he must muse, ‘i…
O epic-famed, god-haunted Central… Heave careless of the deep wrong d… When from Torino’s track I saw th… And multimarbled Genova the Proud… Gleam all unconscious how, wide-li…
To M. H. WE passed where flag and flower Signalled a jocund throng; We said: “Go to, the hour Is apt!”—and joined the song;
“ALIVE?”—And I leapt in my wond… Was faint of my joyance, And grasses and grove shone in gar… Of glory to me. “She lives, in a plenteous well-be…
CHANGE and chancefulness in my… Set me sun by sun near to one unch… Wrought us fellowly, and despite d… Friends interblent us. “Cherish him can I while the true…
Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement—pain It cannot bring again: Twice no one dies. Flower—petals flee;
A shaded lamp and a waving blind, And the beat of a clock from a dis… On this scene enter—winged, horned… A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledo… While 'mid my page there idly stan…
The day is turning ghost, And scuttles from the kalendar in… To join the anonymous host Of those that throng oblivion; ced… To one of like degree.
As 'legal representative’ I read a missive not my own, On new designs the senders give For clothes, in tints as shown. Here figure blouses, gowns for tea…
In Memory of one of the Writer’s… with Napoleon In a ferny byway Near the great South-Wessex High… A homestead raised its breakfast-s…
'Man, you too, aren’t you, one of… All hanging hereabout to gather ho… Examination in the hall.' She flu… The shabby figure standing at the… Who warmed them by its flare.
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease sil… And though thy birth-hour beckons… Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here,