• Come not again! I dwell with you
    Above the realm of frost and dew,
    Of pain and fire, and growth to death.
    I dwell with you where never breath
    Is drawn, but fragrance vital flows
    From life to life, even as a rose
    Unseen pours sweetness through each vein,
    And from the air distils again.
    You are my rose unseen: we live
    Where...

  • Soft-throated south, breathing of summer’s ease
    (Sweet breath, whereof the violet ’s life is made!)
    Through lips moist-warm, as thou hadst lately stayed
    ’Mong rosebuds, wooing to the cheeks of these
    Loth blushes faint and maidenly,—rich breeze,
    Still doth thy honeyed blowing bring a shade
    Of sad foreboding. In thy hand is laid
    The power...

  • The sunshine of thine eyes,
      (O still, celestial beam!)
    Whatever it touches it fills
      With the life of its lambent gleam.

    The sunshine of thine eyes,
      Oh, let it fall on me!
    Though I be but a mote of the air,
      I could turn to gold for thee.

  • Under the apple bough
        Love, in a dream of leaves,
    Dreamed we of love, as now,—
        All that gives beauty or grieves.

    Over the sad world then
        Curved like the sky that bough;
    I was in heaven then,—
        You are in heaven now.

  • I warn, like the one drop of rain
    On your face, ere the storm;
    Or tremble in whispered refrain
      With your blood, beating warm.
    I am the presence that ever
    Baffles your touch’s endeavor,—
    Gone like the glimmer of dust
      Dispersed by a gust.
    I am the absence that taunts you,
    The fancy that haunts you;
    The ever...

  • Do you remember, my sweet, absent son,
    How in the soft June days forever done
    You loved the heavens so warm and clear and high;
    And, when I lifted you, soft came your cry,—
    “Put me ’way up,—’way, ’way up in blue sky”?
    I laughed and said I could not,—set you down,
    Your gray eyes wonder-filled beneath that crown
    Of bright hair gladdening me...

  • I
    the sun had set;
    The leaves with dew were wet:
    Down fell a bloody dusk
    On the woods, that second of May,
    Where Stonewall’s corps, like a beast of prey,
    Tore through, with angry tusk.

    “They’ve trapped us, boys!”
    Rose from our flank a voice.
    With a rush of steel and smoke
    On came the rebels straight,
    Eager...