He ’d nothing but his violin,
I ’d nothing but my song,
But we were wed when skies were blue
And summer days were long;
And when we rested by the hedge,
The robins came and told
How they had dared to woo and win,
When early Spring was cold.
We sometimes supped on dew-berries,
Or slept among the hay,
But oft the...
By the merest chance, in the twilight gloom,
In the orchard path he met me;
In the tall, wet grass, with its faint perfume,
And I tried to pass, but he made no room,
Oh, I tried, but he would not let me.
So I stood and blushed till the grass grew red,
With my face bent down above it,
While he took my hand as he whispering said—...
O touch me not, unless thy soul
Can claim my soul as thine;
Give me no earthly flowers that fade,
No love, but love divine:
For I gave thee immortal flowers,
That bloomed serene in heavenly bowers.
Look not with favor on my face,
Nor answer my caress,
Unless my soul have first found grace
Within thy sight;...
Soft-sandalled twilight, handmaid of the night,
Before her noble lady’s radiant face
Doth slowly come, with gentle, quiet pace,
And draweth rose and azure curtains light
Around the snowy couch, so pure, so white,
Whereon her mistress soon will rest. With grace
Celestial she doth cover every trace
Of toil, and daily soil doth hide from...
She came and went as comes and goes
A fragrance in the morning air,
Where lay the shadowy shapes of those
Who died in her sweet care.
Some doubted, when her face had flown,
Whether it was or only seemed,—
Whether one saw what he had known
Or something he had dreamed.
And near a trampled field at night...
“what is it to be dead?” O Life,
Close-held within my own,
What foul breath in the air is rife?
What voice malign, unknown,
Hath dared this whisper faint and dread,
“What is—what is it to be dead?”
Who told you that the song-bird died?
They had no right to say
This to my child—I know we cried
When Robin “went...
You gave me roses, love, last night,
When the sea was blue and the skies were bright;
And the earth was aglow with a golden light
When you gave me roses, love, last night.
Lilies I lay by your side to-day,
And your face—it is colder and whiter than they;
And I linger and listen and wonder and pray,
As I bring you lilies to-day.
Turn with me from the city’s clamorous street,
Where throng and push passions and lusts and hate,
And enter, through this age-browned, ivied gate,
For many summers’ birds a sure retreat,
The place of perfect peace. And here, most meet
For meditation, where no idle prate
Of the world’s ways may come, rest thee and wait.
’T is very quiet....
O god, thy moon is on the hills,
Thy stars are in the sky,
Thy Spirit this mortal vessel fills,
I feel the end is nigh;
Swift meteors flame across the north,
The golden planets wheel and sink,
Soon steps thy trumpet-angel forth
From Heaven’s eternal brink;
Then peace illumes these warlike ways,
Christ’s joyful...
“the ducats take! I ’ll sign the bond to-day:
No storm can wreck Antonio’s white-winged fleet;
My stately ships secure ride every bay
From Tripolis to Indies’ golden seat.
The ducats take, Bassanio, go thy way;
Thy Portia win, and bid me to the feast;
Ten thousand men Antonio’s nod obey,
And of ten thousand Shylock is the least....
