Framed in the cavernous fire-place sits a boy,
  Watching the embers from his grandsire’s knee:
One sees red castles rise, and laughs with joy;
  The other marks them crumble, silently.

Sonnet Xxx.
when to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends...

I Thought our love at full, but I did err;
Joy’s wreath drooped o’er mine eyes; I could not see
That sorrow in our happy world must be
Love’s deepest spokesman and interpreter.
But, as a mother feels her child first stir
Under her heart, so felt I...

What if some morning, when the stars were paling,
  And the dawn whitened, and the east was clear,
Strange peace and rest fell on me from the presence
  Of a benignant spirit standing near;

And I should tell him, as he stood beside me:—
  “This is our...

Thought is deeper than all speech,
  Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach
  What unto themselves was taught.

We are spirits clad in veils;
  Man by man was never seen;
All our deep communing fails
  To remove...

Before you thought of Spring

Except as a Surmise

You see — God bless his suddenness —

A Fellow in the Skies

Of independent Hues

A little weather worn

Inspiriting habiliments

Of Indigo and Brown...

Poet:

I found the words to every thought

I ever had — but One —

And that — defies me —

As a Hand did try to chalk the Sun


To Races — nurtured in the Dark —

How would your own — begin?

Can Blaze be shown in...

Poet:

I many times thought Peace had come

When Peace was far away —

As Wrecked Men — deem they sight the Land —

At Centre of the Sea —


And struggle slacker — but to prove

As hopelessly as I —

How many the...

Poet:

I thought the Train would never come —

How slow the whistle sang —

I don't believe a peevish Bird

So whimpered for the Spring —

I taught my Heart a hundred times

Precisely what to say —

Provoking Lover,...

Poet:

It is an honorable Thought

And make One lift One's Hat

As One met sudden Gentlefolk

Upon a daily Street


That We've immortal Place

Though Pyramids decay

And Kingdoms, like the Orchard

Flit...

Poet: