No idle gold—since this fine sun,… Is no mean miser, but doth freely… No prescious stones—since these gr… Without a charge, their pearls whe… No lifeless books—since birds with…

She walks as lightly as the fly Skates on the water in July. To hear her moving petticoat For me is music’s highest note. Stones are not heard, when her fee…

Sing out, my soul, thy songs of jo… Sing as a happy bird will sing Beneath a rainbow’s lovely arch In the spring. Think not of death in thy young da…

Yes, I will spend the livelong da… With Nature in this month of May; And sit beneath the trees, and sha… My bread with birds whose homes ar… While cows lie down to eat, and sh…

Indeed this is the sweet life! my… Is under no proud man’s command; There is no voice to break my rest Before a bird has left its nest; There is no man to change my mood,

Good morning, Life—and all Things glad and beautiful. My pockets nothing hold, But he that owns the gold, The Sun, is my great friend—

A jar of cider and my pipe, In summer, under shady tree; A book by one that made his mind Live by its sweet simplicity: Then must I laugh at kings who si…

A dear old couple my grandparents… And kind to all dumb things; they… The lamb that Jesus petted when a… Their faith was never draped by D… Death was a rainbow in Eternity,

While joy gave clouds the light of… That beamed wher’er they looked; And calves and lambs had tottering… Excited, while they sucked; While every bird enjoyed his song,

As I walked down the waterside This silent morning, wet and dark; Before the cocks in farmyards crow… Before the dogs began to bark; Before the hour of five was struck

I hear leaves drinking rain; I hear rich leaves on top Giving the poor beneath Drop after drop; ‘Tis a sweet noise to hear

Here comes Kate Summers, who, for… Takes any man to bed: “You knew my friend, Nell Barnes,… “You knew Nell Barnes—she’s dead. ”Nell Barnes was bad on all you m…

When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door. Then felt I like a child that hol…

I pray you, Sadness, leave me soo… In sweet invention thou art poor! Thy sister, Joy can make ten song… While thou art making four. One hour with thee is sweet enough…