Who Ever Felt as I
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry.
...
My Friend
My friend must be a bird
Because he flies.
...
Hope is a Thing With Feathers
Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
...
The Heart Asks
The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain;
...
The Rose in the Deeps of his Heart
All things uncomely and broken,
all things worn-out and old,
...
The Grave
The grave my little cottage is,
Where, keeping house for thee,
...
So We'll Go No More A-roving
So, we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
...
Soon, O Ianthe!
Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er,
And sooner beauty's heavenly smile:
...
To Helen
Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
...
Mild Is The Parting Year
Mild is the parting year and sweet
The odour of the falling spray;
...