Yellow leaves, how fast they flutter - woodland hollows thickly strewing, Where the wan October sunbeams scantly in the mid-day win, While the dim gray clouds are drifting, and in saddened hues imbuing...
As one who, journeying, checks the rein in haste Because a chasm doth yawn across his way Too wide for leaping, and too steeply faced For climber to essay - ...
Out of the melancholy that is made Of ebbing sorrow that too slowly ebbs, Comes back a sighing whisper of the reed, A note in new love-pipings on the bough, Grieving with grief till all the full-fed air...
Where do you go, Bob, when you 're fast asleep?' 'Where? O well, once I went into a deep Mine, father told of, and a cross man said He'd make me help to dig, and eat black bread....
Jesus, the Lamb of God, gone forth to heal and bless. Calm lie the desert pools in a fair wilderness; Wind-shaken moves the reed, so moves His voice the soul,...
Into the rock the road is cut full deep, At its low ledges village children play, From its high rifts fountains of leafage weep, And silvery birches sway.
I read upon that book, Which down the golden gulf doth let us look On the sweet days of pastoral majesty; I read upon that book How, when the Shepherd Prince did flee (Red Esau's twin), he desolate took...
It's we two, it's we two, it's we two for aye, All the world and we two, and Heaven be our stay. Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! All the world was Adam once, with Eve by his side. ...
Mountains of sorrow, I have heard your moans, And the moving of your pines; but we sit high On your green shoulders, nearer stoops the sky, And pure airs visit us from all the zones....
Up to far Osteroe and Suderoe The deep sea-floor lies strewn with Spanish wrecks, O'er minted gold the fair-haired fishers go, O'er sunken bravery of high carv'd decks. ...
Who veileth love should first have vanquished fate. She folded up the dream in her deep heart, Her fair full lips were silent on that smart, Thick fring'd eyes did on the grasses wait....
Lying imbedded in the green champaign That gives no shadow to thy silvery face, Open to all the heavens, and all their train, The marshalled clouds that cross with stately pace,...
["Concerning this man (Robert Delacour), little further is known than that he served in the king's army, and was wounded in the battle of Marston Moor, being then about twenty-seven years of age. After the battle of Nazeby, fin...
Come away, the clouds are high, Put the flashing needles by. Many days are not to spare, Or to waste, my fairest fair! All is ready. Come to-day, For the nightingale her lay,...