The Relic Taken, What Avails The Shrine?
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine? The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine, Art thou not worse than that, Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat? Her image nestled closer at
To Any Reader
As from the house your mother sees You playing round the garden trees, So you may see, if you will look Through the windows of this book, Another child, far, far away, And in
As One Who Having Wandered All Night Long
AS one who having wandered all night long In a perplexed forest, comes at length In the first hours, about the matin song, And when the sun uprises in his strength, To the fringed
Hail! Childish Slave Of Social Rules
HAIL! Childish slaves of social rules You had yourselves a hand in making! How I could shake your faith, ye fools, If but I thought it worth the shaking. I see, and pity you;
To Mrs. Macmarland
IN Schnee der Alpen – so it runs To those divine accords – and here We dwell in Alpine snows and suns, A motley crew, for half the year: A motley crew, we dwell
In Port
Last, to the chamber where I lie My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And come out from the cold and gloom Into my warm and cheerful room. There, safe arrived, we turn about To keep
To Miss Cornish
THEY tell me, lady, that to-day On that unknown Australian strand – Some time ago, so far away – Another lady joined the band. She joined the company of those Lovelily dowered, nobly planned,
This Gloomy Northern Day
THIS gloomy northern day, Or this yet gloomier night, Has moved a something high In my cold heart; and I, That do not often pray, Would pray to-night. And first on Thee I call
Pirate Story
Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing, Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea. Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring, And waves are
Winter-Time
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again. Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the
Good-Night
Then the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth;
To Rosabelle
WHEN my young lady has grown great and staid, And in long raiment wondrously arrayed, She may take pleasure with a smile to know How she delighted men-folk long ago. For her long after,
Summer Sun
Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays. Though closer still the blinds we
The Swing
How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do! Up in the air and
Now Bare To The Beholder's Eye
NOW bare to the beholder’s eye Your late denuded bindings lie, Subsiding slowly where they fell, A disinvested citadel; The obdurate corset, Cupid’s foe, The Dutchman’s breeches frilled below. Those that the lover notes