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1. A Lover's Envy I envy every flower that blows Along the meadow where she goes, And every bird that sings to her, And every breeze that brings to her The fragrance of the rose. I envy every poet’s rhyme That moves her heart at eventime, And every tree that wears for her Its brightest bloom, and bears for […]...
2. Woods in Winter When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O’er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes. Where, twisted round the barren oak, The […]...
3. In Lovers' Lane I know a place for loitering feet Deep in the valley where the breeze Makes melody in lichened boughs, And murmurs low love-litanies. There slender harebells nod and dream, And pale wild roses offer up The fragrance of their golden hearts, As from some incense-brimméd cup. It holds the sunshine sifted down Softly through many […]...
4. The Exile We told her that her far off shore was bleak and dour to view, And that her sky was dull and mirk while ours was smiling blue. She only sighed in answer, “It is even as ye say, But oh, the ragged splendor when the sun bursts through the gray!” We brought her dew-wet roses […]...
5. 145. Song-Yon Wild Mossy Mountains YON wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide, That nurse in their bosom the youth o’ the Clyde, Where the grouse lead their coveys thro’ the heather to feed, And the shepherd tends his flock as he pipes on his reed. Not Gowrie’s rich valley, nor Forth’s sunny shores, To me hae the charms o’yon […]...
6. A Coloured Print by Shokei It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore, And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters which sweep In a silver torrent over some steep. It clears the path with a mighty bound And tumbles below […]...
7. It Is Not Growing Like A Tree It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make Man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night – It was the plant and […]...
8. Late Spring I Ah, who will tell me, in these leaden days, Why the sweet Spring delays, And where she hides, the dear desire Of every heart that longs For bloom, and fragrance, and the ruby fire Of maple-buds along the misty hills, And that immortal call which fills The waiting wood with songs? The snow-drops came […]...
9. Birdcage Walk When the wind blows her veil And uncovers her laughter I cease, I turn pale. When the wind blows her veil From the woes I bewail Of love and hereafter: When the wind blows her veil I cease, I turn pale....
10. The Old Man's Grave Make it where the winds may sweep Through the pine boughs soft and deep, And the murmur of the sea Come across the orient lea, And the falling raindrops sing Gently to his slumbering. Make it where the meadows wide Greenly lie on every side, Harvest fields he reaped and trod, Westering slopes of clover […]...
11. Echo Dell In a lone valley fair and far, Where many sweet beguilements are, I know a spot to lag and dream Through damask morns and noons agleam; For feet fall lightly on the fern And twilight is a wondrous thing, When the winds blow from some far bourne Beyond the hill rims westering; There echoes ring […]...
12. Once Upon a Time I once upon a time I Saw a first flower undress In slow motion naked colour I have been awaiting One to bloom And emit fragrance Ever since...
13. It Is Not the Tear At This Moment Shed It is not the tear at this moment shed, When the cold turf has just been laid o’er him, That can tell how beloved was the friend that’s fled, Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him. ‘Tis the tear, through many a long day wept, ‘Tis life’s whole path o’ershaded; ‘Tis the one […]...
14. Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sighing: No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses, Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn! No more will the wild wind that passes Return, no more return....
15. Netley Abbey Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate; But when the winds, slow wafted from the main, Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain, Come hollow to my ear, I meditate On this world’s passing pageant, and the lot Of those who once majestic in their prime Stood smiling at decay, till […]...
16. Vers Demode For one, the amaryllis and the rose; The poppy, sweet as never lilies are; The ripen’d vine, that beckons as it blows; The dancing star. For one, the trodden rosemary and rue; The bowl, dipt ever in the purple stream And, for the other one, a fairer due- Sleep, and no dream....
17. MUSIC MUSIC doth uplift me like a sea Towards my planet pale, Then through dark fogs or heaven’s infinity I lift my wandering sail. With breast advanced, drinking the winds that flee, And through the cordage wail, I mount the hurrying waves night hides from me Beneath her sombre veil. I feel the tremblings of all […]...
18. Sonnet XXII: Wild Is the Foaming Sea Wild is the foaming Sea! The surges roar! And nimbly dart the livid lightnings round! On the rent rock the angry waves rebound; Ah me! the less’ning bark is seen no more! Along the margin of the trembling shore, Loud as the blast my frantic cries shall sound, My storm-drench’d limbs the flinty fragments wound, […]...
19. The Dying Of Pere Pierre “. . . with two other priests; the same night he died, And was buried by the shores of the lake that bears his name.” Chronicle. “Nay, grieve not that ye can no honour give To these poor bones that presently must be But carrion; since I have sought to live Upon God’s earth, as […]...
20. All Is Well Whate’er you dream, with doubt possessed, Keep, keep it snug within your breast, And lay you down and take your rest; And when you wake, to work again, The wind it blows, the vessel goes, And where and whither, no one knows. ‘Twill all be well: no need of care; Though how it will, and […]...
21. La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente My limbs are wasted with a flame, My feet are sore with travelling, For, calling on my Lady’s name, My lips have now forgot to sing. O Linnet in the wild-rose brake Strain for my Love thy melody, O Lark sing louder for love’s sake, My gentle Lady passeth by. She is too fair for […]...
22. Leaves Compared With Flowers A tree’s leaves may be ever so good, So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing to its root It never will show much flower or fruit. But I may be one who does not care Ever to have tree bloom or bear. Leaves for smooth and bark […]...
23. A Song of Autumn ‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad At the falling of the year, When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad, When the boughs are yellow and sere? Where are the old ones that once we had, And when are the new ones near? What shall we do for our garlands glad At the […]...
24. Hearthside Half across the world from me Lie the lands I’ll never see- I, whose longing lives and dies Where a ship has sailed away; I, that never close my eyes But to look upon Cathay. Things I may not know nor tell Wait, where older waters swell; Ways that flowered at Sappho’s tread, Winds that […]...
25. The Call of the Winds Ho, come out with the wind of spring, And step it blithely in woodlands waking; Friend am I of each growing thing From the gray sod into sunshine breaking; Mine is the magic of twilights dim, Of violets blue on the still pool’s rim, Mine is the breath of the blossoms young Sweetest of fragrances […]...
26. A Flower Given to My Daughter Frail the white rose and frail are Her hands that gave Whose soul is sere and paler Than time’s wan wave. Rosefrail and fair yet frailest A wonder wild In gentle eyes thou veilest, My blueveined child....
27. The Little Boy Found The little boy lost in the lonely fen, Led by the wand’ring light, Began to cry, but God ever nigh, Appeared like his father in white. He kissed the child & by the hand led And to his mother brought, Who in sorrow pale. thro’ the lonely dale Her little boy weeping sought....
28. Summer Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come, For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom, And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest, And love is burning diamonds in my true lover’s breast; She sits beneath the whitethorn a-plaiting of her hair, And […]...
29. 428. Song-Phillis the Queen o' the fair ADOWN winding Nith I did wander, To mark the sweet flowers as they spring; Adown winding Nith I did wander, Of Phillis to muse and to sing. Chorus.-Awa’ wi’ your belles and your beauties, They never wi’ her can compare, Whaever has met wi’ my Phillis, Has met wi’ the queen o’ the fair. The […]...
30. Of Brussels it was not Of Brussels it was not Of Kidderminster? Nay The Winds did buy it of the Woods They sold it unto me It was a gentle price The poorest could afford It was within the frugal purse Of Beggar or of Bird Of small and spicy Yards In hue a mellow Dun Of Sunshine and of […]...
31. My Dove, My Beautiful One My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes. The odorous winds are weaving A music of sighs: Arise, arise, My dove, my beautiful one! I wait by the cedar tree, My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed. The pale dew […]...
32. Rest ON me to rest, my bird, my bird: The swaying branches of my heart Are blown by every wind toward The home whereto their wings depart. Build not your nest, my bird, on me; I know no peace but ever sway: O lovely bird, be free, be free, On the wild music of the day. […]...
33. Work Without Hope All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair- The bees are stirring-birds are on the wing- And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing. Yet well I ken the […]...
34. To One Departed Seraph! thy memory is to me Like some enchanted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea – Some ocean vexed as it may be With storms; but where, meanwhile, Serenest skies continually Just o’er that one bright island smile. For ‘mid the earnest cares and woes That crowd around my earthly path, (Sad path, alas, where […]...
35. Tz'u No. 1 To the tune “Courtyard Filled with Fragrance” Fragrant grass beside the pond Green shade over the hall A clear cold comes through The window curtains Crescent moon beyond the golden bars And a flute sounds As if someone were coming But alone on my mat with a cup Gazing sadly into nothingness I want to […]...
36. A Line-Storm Song The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift. The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, Expend their bloom in vain. Come over the hills and far with me, And be my love in the rain. The birds […]...
37. Arrival Across a thousand miles of sea, a hundred leagues of land, Along a path I had not traced and could not understand, I travelled fast and far for this, to take thee by the hand. A pilgrim knowing not the shrine where he would bend his knee, A mariner without a dream of what his […]...
38. Morning Joy At night the wide and level stretch of wold, Which at high noon had basked in quiet gold, Far as the eye could see was ghostly white; Dark was the night save for the snow’s weird light. I drew the shades far down, crept into bed; Hearing the cold wind moaning overhead Through the sad […]...
39. Night In The Old Home When the wasting embers redden the chimney-breast, And Life’s bare pathway looms like a desert track to me, And from hall and parlour the living have gone to their rest, My perished people who housed them here come back to me. They come and seat them around in their mouldy places, Now and then bending […]...
40. Evening Primrose When once the sun sinks in the west, And dewdrops pearl the evening’s breast; Almost as pale as moonbeams are, Or its companionable star, The evening primrose opes anew Its delicate blossoms to the dew; And, hermit-like, shunning the light, Wastes its fair bloom upon the night, Who, blindfold to its fond caresses, Knows not […]...